Here's Looking at You, Dear
by OnceUponAShipper
Summary: *Sequel to "We'll Always Have Storybrooke."* Now that Regina and Emma realize they're True Loves, life only gets more complicated. Between strained relationships and crazy twists and turns, the Queen & the Savior have their work cut out for them. As always, the only way they can survive it is together.
1. A Closet So Small

**A/N - **I'm baaaccckk! Haha, I know it's only been just under two weeks, but I hate staying away for too long. I've been working on this story for the past week, as well as "Universe & U" (that one bordering on a month). Based off of a couple of reviews, I thought a sequel to "We'll Always Have Storybrooke" would be interesting to explore. Also, given the recent OQ madness, I figured us diehard SQ-ers might need something to remedy it. So... I present "Here's Looking at You, Dear." I hope people are getting the references, haha! Anyway, enjoy, dearies! I'd love to know what you think so far!

* * *

"We have to tell them, Gina. I mean, they're gonna find out sooner or later, and I think they'd rather hear it from me, ya know? Gina?" Emma weaved her brown shoelaces under and over one another as she sat on the corner of the bed. Her taught abs tightened as she leaned down and tied her knee-high boots with double knots.

The covers were neatly made over the plush pillows by the mahogany head board; Emma's side had a few creases here and there, whereas Regina's looked as if it had been done by a drill sergeant. That's how it looked every morning since Emma had moved in four weeks ago. She and Regina had been together for almost three months, ever since they'd professed their true feelings for one another. Needless to say, they were still in an adjustment period.

"I'm listening, dear," a husky voice replied through the solid door. "I'm just not sure that it's wise to reveal such a heavy bit of information right now. You're mother's still recovering from the delivery. Something this big could be… hard on her health." Regina examined herself in the mirror quizzically, as if she were looking at a specimen through a microscope. Her brunette locks had thickened and gotten even longer than before, her chestnut eyes had lost their severity and had softened considerably, and her plum-painted lips hadn't pursed together in a while. Even when she lectured Emma for something, she had never fully re-entered mayor-mode.

"People are starting to talk again. David and Mary Margaret are never gonna forgive me if I wasn't the one who told them," Emma griped as she stuffed her leg into her other boot. Her golden twists slid down her shoulders and acted as a cover, as if she were being shielded from an unseeable force.

"Emma, they're never going to forgive you for loving the Evil Queen. I'm sure it doesn't matter to them who rains on their parade." Regina's stiff shoulders rolled forward just slightly as she envisioned the Charmings' reaction to the news of their daughter and their enemy. To be fair, they hadn't been enemies in months. In all actuality, it had been quite civil between the royals; no venomous insults had been hurled and they'd even ventured out on several "family dinners." Of course, this had all been done without the knowledge that Emma and Regina were a couple. When questions arose of Captain Hook's whereabouts, Emma merely guessed and suggested that he was at his Jolly Roger. The "subtle" underlying message from Mary Margaret and David had been understood clearly by their daughter.

Lifting herself off of the mattress and floating to the closed door, Emma turned the knob without asking, knowing that her girlfriend was fretting. The blonde sheriff leaned against the wooden frame like a casual caller, her white spaghetti-strap tank top hugged her chest and accentuated her strong core. The hem of the shirt rode up just enough to expose Emma's midsection; a cruel tease for the brunette. Wanting to make a joke, the Savior sensed Regina's sober mood and adjusted her own tone. She placed one hand on the Queen's waist and pulled her in gently, as if the distance between them had been torture. When Regina wore those power suits, Emma could hardly resist her; like a thirst she couldn't quench, Regina was the water that kept her alive. "They don't hate you," Emma whispered firmly. "You know they don't hate you."

"They should… they used to," the mayor sighed, too anxious to mask her own terror at the very thought of confronting Emma's parents.

"Well, they don't anymore. Come on, aren't you guys like friends now? I haven't seen any fireballs or heart rippings. That's gotta mean something, right?"

"I suppose."

"Regina," Emma started deliberately, her own nerves acting up, "I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with. If you don't feel like you're ready, then we won't tell them. I get that." She grazed Regina's cheek with a tender kiss, secretly hoping that today would be the day.

As if she were contemplating an agreement with a troll faction, Regina used all of her concentration and focused it on the pros and cons. Pro, the rest of Emma's family would know and that meant one less secret. Con, Charming could sling his sword aimed for Regina's heart. Pro, Henry wouldn't have to be careful anymore and lie to his grandparents. Con, her mended relationship with Mary Margaret could be endangered and ultimately destroyed. Pro, Regina herself would officially have more to her family.

As she weighed the possible outcomes, the brunette stared intently into Emma's soul, unaware that she was diving so deep. And in the end, she came to the conclusion that Emma was right: David and Snow would learn about it at some point, it was better if their daughter said it face-to-face.

"Very well," Regina said crisply as she tossed a loose strand of hair back into place. "Tell Henry we're going to his grandparents'."

* * *

The three of them waited in the hallway of the apartment, eagerly counting down to the momentous occasion. From inside the loft, they heard a baby crying as if it'd just been pinched. Then they heard shouting and a metal pan clatter to the floor. It sounded like David. Hurried footsteps scurried through the small home, muffled voices called out to one another, and finally, Snow was standing across from them with a wailing, chubby-cheeked, cherry-colored infant writhing in her hold; a patch of auburn hair stuck out from the yellow blanket and there was a look of relief in Snow's eyes.

However, the relief didn't last long, as Snow's newborn spit up on her shirt… without a rag to cover it. "I just put this on," the pixie-haired Princess said bitterly.

"Uh, here, lemme hold him," Emma offered, already reaching for her brother. The gender of the baby had been a surprise for everyone. Neither Snow or David wanted to know ahead of time. Gold had told them about Emma, and it hadn't exactly been by their own choosing, not really. This round, there were no deals to be made and no caveats for the information. Cradling the child as she had pictured she would have done with Henry, Emma smiled down at the quieting child and let him hold her index finger.

"You really have do have magic, don't you?" Snow jested, trying her best to sound as aloof as possible, when deep down, it killed her that she couldn't comfort her own baby.

For her mother's sake, Emma brushed it off. "I think he just missed his big sister," she hummed. "Think we can come inside?"

"Oh, right!" Snow squeaked, as if she'd totally forgotten that they were all lingering in the lonesome corridor. She moved aside briskly and started apologizing for the state of the apartment. "I'm sorry about the mess; we haven't had a lot of time to clean up." Scanning the room, the group saw everything Snow was self-conscious of. The wastebasket was overflowing with dirty diapers, tiny socks and shoes were scattered around the living room, unfolded onesies lay sprawled on the floor, and empty milk bottles covered the dining room table. Anyone would have assumed they'd had triplets, not just one.

Snow hastily tidied up the place as best she could, while David finished running his hand under cold water. The flesh had started to turn pink, though the Prince put on a brave face and acted as though it didn't hurt like hell. "Emma," he grinned, the same relief in his eyes as his wife. After many sleepless nights, his scruff had turned into a full-on beard, covering most of his face. He had just beaten Hook and was now on his way to passing Little John for the most hair man in town. His own shirt, untucked and wrinkled, had several stains splattered in random spots, many of which were unidentifiable. Dark rings hung below his eyes, proof that he hadn't gotten a peaceful night's rest since the baby was born.

As though it'd been months since he'd seen Henry, he hugged his grandson tightly and held on for a few seconds longer than usual. David and Regina exchanged in an awkward hug-shake: half hug, half handshake. And finally, the man kissed his daughter's forehead and beamed down at his son.

"Can't believe Lance is this big already," the blonde mused adoringly. The couple had named him after the man who had given them one of the greatest gifts they could ever have imagined. "He's only three weeks old." Emma dangled her long curls over Lance and a hint of a smile was detectable. Still unsure how exactly one made the corners of their mouth turn up, Lance settled for his green eyes lighting up like stars.

Regina was helping Snow pick up the loose materials as she spoke over her shoulder. "Henry didn't grow much until he turned two months; he was just a bit smaller than Lance at his age."

"Speaking of, when Henry was this small, did he, you know… vomit on everything?" David questioned, ignoring Henry's mortification. "It's just that, he's so tiny right now, I don't understand how he can throw up so much."

The brunette nodded with a slight smirk. "Let's just say, he won't be the only one who will need new clothes." When the couch was cleared off, Regina sat down properly with one leg over the other and mentally addressed Emma; she was just waiting to run out of the room.

Bouncing up and down, the sheriff glanced from her son to her girlfriend, then to her mother and father. Right then, she envied her brother; not just for the attention he was getting, but because he was completely and utterly unaware of his surroundings. He would have no comprehension of the significance this admission held, and he didn't have to worry about all of the after effects. Lance was safe from it all, unlike Emma.

"Yeah, so, uh, guys, there's actually something I— we wanted to talk to you about. You know, if you've got a sec?" she asked, still rocking Lance, who was gurgling contentedly to himself and blowing bubbles.

Taking the cooing infant into his own arms, David and Mary Margaret shared the chair across from the others. She sat on the actual seat, he sat on the arm, hoping Lance would stay pacified long enough to put himself to sleep. Neither of them knew what Emma had on her mind, and they were both having an equally difficult time reading their daughter. She was a hard person interpret… when she wanted to be. It could have been the magic inside of her that did her bidding, or it could have come from years of practice how to hide her emotions.

Henry was helping himself to some juice from the fridge, not even the slightest bit worried about today. It'd taken a fair amount of begging of both mothers to let him tag along, as he was just dying to see how his grandparents would react. Also, though, he knew David and Snow wouldn't be as hard on his moms if he were there. He was the peacekeeper of the family, a role that he was honored to fill.

Wringing her hands like a wet towel, Emma debated whether or not she should sit with Regina. Her gut told her that she should— that she should right next to her partner so that they could support each other. But then, her head told her not to. She was a safe distance from both Regina and her parents; it seemed like neutral ground.

_Just say it_, the Savior commanded with a preparatory breath. Her vessel was drumming a mile a second in her chest, as if it were pleading with her to rethink her decision. When she looked at Regina, though, her heart was instantly assuaged of any and all fear. She was doing this for the brunette; she was doing this for both of them.

"You guys don't, like, hate Regina, right?" Emma blurted out like a cannon.

Evidently taken aback by the woman's inquiry, both David and Snow recoiled slightly at the brash question. They blinked quickly as if they'd just been slapped across the face and they soon matched the same shade of red. Lance was still blissfully ignorant of his parent's shock, the same way he would be until he reached young adulthood.

"No, we don't hate Regina," David said cooly, readjusting the child to better support Lance's head. "You know that… don't you?" he posed more to Regina than Emma. The mayor lifted her chin just a hair to signal that she did, but David wasn't so sure.

"Good… that's good. Yeah, good," Emma muttered to herself as she ran her fingers through her thin mane. She looked as if she were about to pace the floor, the same way she always did when she was freaking out, but she restrained herself; she stayed standing still. Her toned biceps flexed every now and then as she tensed up and then relaxed. "So, you're cool? You two… I don't know, like her?"

Snow's brow creased like the sheets on Emma's side of the bed and she shook her head in confusion. "Emma, where are you going with this? Of course we like Regina; she was willing to protect Lance and I from Zelena."

"Good… that's good. Good," the blond repeated obsessively. Regina gawked at Emma, as if she were asking, "What the hell are you doing?" Letting her impulses take over, Emma planted herself onto the empty cushion by her love and grabbed her hand; a gesture she was positive David and Snow would understand. "Regina and I… we've been…" Clearing her throat and trying again, Emma looked right at her parents. "Regina and I are together. I— I know you might not approve, and that would suck, but… I just wanted you to know."

Henry was just drinking his apple juice when Emma finally said it. He didn't swallow and he didn't spit it out; he just kept the juice in his mouth. His cheeks puffed out like a squirrel and his grip on the cup slackened. If he hadn't had the fast reflexes he did, the juice would've ended up on the floor, along with a shattered glass.

Emma felt Regina turn to stone and she saw the color drain from the woman as if it'd just flooded out of her system entirely. However, the Queen's professional manner stayed intact: she never uncrossed her legs, she never let her jaw drop, and she never made any implication that she was either ashamed or embarrassed. She just sat there quietly and waited for David and Snow to respond.

By now, Lance had bubbled himself into unconsciousness. His teeny chest rose and fell rapidly as his small heart worked to help him grow. Puny fists were no longer waving about, but were limp at Lance's side. One wrong move, and David would regret waking up the kid for the rest of the day.

As if they were both carefully pondering Emma's announcement, David and Snow held hands, much like Regina and their daughter. There was affection shared between them, love emitted through the skin-to-skin contact. It was like a security blanket; they felt secure and protected, as if their love alone created a barrier around them that only they could feel.

An agonizing five minutes of silence passed between the family, and in that five minutes, Emma was starting to believe Regina had been right; maybe her parents _did _hate her. But, then again, she hadn't sensed that they were lying before. Maybe she was just overthinking it. Regina had done more for David and Snow in the last few months than anyone would have guessed they'd see in their lifetime. Call it guilt for being responsible that they couldn't raise their first born, but Regina had kept the snubs to a minimum and the sarcasm to the lowest degree she could muster. She and Snow had talked things through and gotten their respective mommy issues straightened out, even more so than in the past. And, Regina had been giving David pointers about caring for an infant, which he graciously accepted.

Everything was going so well, but none of it was real… not the way Emma wanted it to be. She wanted the bonding between Regina and her parents to be done with the knowledge of their true relationship, not just with the mindset that she was "Henry's other mother." For that to happen, this had to as well.

Twisting the ring on her right hand, Regina murmured, "If it would make it easier, I can step out. If you'd like time with Emma."

Her second half nudged her inconspicuously. "No, you don't have to go," Emma said. "David, Mary Margaret, please… say something?"

Delicately placing Lance in his white-laced basinet, David left and returned as stealthily as a python, slithering through his obstacles with finesse and admirable agility. He reclaimed his thin sliver of support, but he didn't reach for Snow again. There was an air of resign to his body language, as if he'd all the time he needed. He felt his wife next to him, unmoving and ambivalent. David, himself, was anything but. Peeling away from the chair and onto the arm of the couch, the father peered down at Emma with nothing but devotion. "I want you to be with whoever makes you happy."

"Regina makes me happy," Emma said quietly.

"Then you don't need my approval. You don't need anyone's approval. I'll tell you what you do have, though." He put a kind hand on Emma's head and gave a small smile. "My blessing."

"R- really?" the Savior stammered.

Staring right at Emma, who seemed to be holding back tears, David relayed the speech he'd prepared, should she ever come to him with a problem or revelation of this magnitude. "I missed out on 28 years of your life, Emma," he said tenderly. "I didn't get to raise you or be the parent that you wanted, the one that you deserved. I didn't get to show you how much I loved you or tell you that I would always love you, no matter what. Ever since you found us, I've been trying to make up for those lost years, but I know we'll never get them back. And now, well, we have time to fix that."

As if the entire Empire State Building had been released from her back, Emma exhaled shakily, her knuckles the same shade as Snow's skin: white. Regina, however, was not so easily placated. She watched her former step-daughter bite her nails absentmindedly, the distant look in the woman's eyes. Since Lance had arrived, the Princess had slowly returned to her original, slim self. Her recently filled out cheeks were slowly retreating back into the incurved shaped they once held and barrettes held back her growing bangs. This only made it easer for Regina to detect the distress in Snow's features.

"Mary Margaret?" Regina summoned the individual out of her dazed state. As if she were just reawakened from a deep slumber, Snow glanced groggily at Emma and Regina, but mostly at Regina. A slow burning churned through her insides, a pain that wouldn't subside no matter how much Snow begged it to. She wanted to support Emma; her daughter's happiness was all that ever mattered to her. But with Regina? Emma, the child she was forced to give up because of Regina. The child she never got to see take her first steps or say her first word because of Regina. The child she never got to see off to her first day at school or hear about her first crush because of Regina. Everything that Snow had missed out on was because of Regina.

"Excuse me," Snow said, almost in an inaudible whisper. Running like the wind, she flew out of her chair and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. The sudden, boisterous noise startled Lance, and soon, the crying resumed.

Torn between his son and his wife, David rushed for the weeping newborn and swayed back and forth until the hysteria lowered to a whimper. Emma, Regina, and Henry were all gathering their things to go, a mix of rejoicing and disappointment in their veins. "I'm sorry," David said earnestly, both to Emma and Regina. "I'll talk to her," he promised.

"Thanks… Dad," the blonde responded sincerely. With that, the Swan-Mills family exited the hectic environment and entered the busy streets of Storybrooke.

Archie and Pongo passed by them on their usual stroll; the man with his umbrella and his tweed jacket, the puppy with his white fur and black spots. Henry crouched down to pet the dog and received several wet kisses before the he and his owner continued down to their office. From across the road, Emma spotted Marco and August, who was still a little boy. Every time she saw the kid, she saw the man that she had once known and the man that Tamara had killed. There were a lot of things she'd never forgive that evil woman for, and murdering one of her friends was one of them.

Rumplestiltskin was rearranging the objects in the window display, adding and removing items at his own discretion. Swords were replaced with books, clothes were moved to the back of the exhibit, and pottery was spread out with an inch between them. Belle was behind the counter, saying something to her boyfriend, but Emma couldn't read lips well enough to decipher it. She did know, however, it had to be something good, because it got a smile out of the wizard; that was as rare as a blue moon.

As she surveyed the homey town, Emma was reminded of why she loved it so much: there was no other place like it on the face of the planet. Everyone's history had been documented in movies and books, they were all authentic and honest. This was more than just a town, it was a community. People cared about one another, they knew everyone by name, no one was ever left out. Living with fairytale characters was interesting, but Emma wouldn't have traded it for a million dollars.

"Well," Regina broke through the sound barrier and grabbed the attention of the other mother and son. She did her best to hide her own dismay at Snow's reaction and put on a tight grin, mostly because they were in public. "Shall we go home or to Granny's?" secretly wanting to go home.

Sensing that they could all use a little pick-me-up, Emma laced her fingers with Regina's and ruffled Henry's hair. "I've got a better idea."

* * *

On this gorgeous Saturday afternoon, Emma decided she was taking Regina and Henry on a picnic by the water. In a cloud of magenta smoke, the blonde managed to teleport them on her own, which resulted in Regina and Henry staggering to keep their balance as they landed like Weeble Wobbles. It was as if the ground beneath them split apart and they were trying not to fall through the cracks.

Extremely proud of herself, Emma was as giddy as a child. It was almost enough to take her mind off of the mildly alarming visit with her parents. That harrowing pull on her stomach had faded the more she used her magic, and she no longer doubled-over in agony. It had become something of the past, before she learned how to control her powers.

A whistling breeze soared over the trio and sent a shiver down Regina's spine, which wasn't easy to do. The sunlight, free of clouds sparkled off of the rippling water and created brilliant reflections over the surface. The trees around them were just budding back to life from a harrowing winter and the growing leaves swished together excitedly. Thin blades of grass protruded from the small hills of sand, popping out here and there in no particularly arrangement. Seagulls mewed as they flapped their white wings and skidded over the sea, searching for their own lunch. Searching over the horizon, Emma was so sure she could see the other end of the earth.

The Savior was in her happy place: as long as she had her son and partner, anywhere was her happy place. Like a school teacher talking to her students, she gestured animatedly to the shore, just a little further than where the tide was rolling in. The waves splashed against the boulders in a hypnotic fashion and slapped the rocks like a timed punching bag; imprints of where the last surge stopped highlighted the crystalized grains in the tanned soil. As if the gorgeous scenery was nonexistent, Regina and Henry followed Emma hesitantly, somewhere between amazed or frightened.

Flicking her wrist the way she had seen Regina done hundreds of times before, Emma conjured a blue-checkered blanket that floated onto the smooth ground like a feather. "There's the first item." Making the same motion with her other wrist, two more objects appeared: a beige, wicker, picnic basket, and an antennae radio. "And there are the other two. Go ahead, sit, relax, marvel at my greatness."

Stunned, Henry and Regina lowered themselves onto the soft linen and gawked at the Savior. Emma started taking out plates and silverware, along with cups and napkins, as if she never noticed their O-shaped mouths. There were three grilled-cheese sandwiches packed in the basket, along with a two-liter Pepsi bottle filled with cider, a bowl of grapes, and triangle-shaped slices of watermelon. After she'd emptied the container and put it aside, Henry spoke through cracked inflections; the perils of puberty. "Mom, did you just… like, seriously do that?"

"Like, seriously, I just did," Emma chuckled. "What are you waiting for? Dig in!" she exclaimed as she picked up her own sandwich. Henry did as his mother did, but Regina wasn't so quick to join in on the fun. She had a few thousand words swirling in her head as her pupils shrank and her gaze went cold. Emma was in the midst of her first bite when she got the goosebumps only Regina could create.

"Why didn't you tell me you've been practicing?" the mayor asked dubiously, obviously offended.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Emma said simply, as if that were a good enough reason. Regina's unimpressed expression wasn't exactly what she'd been hoping for. "What?" she wondered as chewed her sandwich guardedly.

"You know very well 'what,'" the brunette said in a warning tone, the same tone she used when punishing Henry for something. Pushing her plate away from her, Regina folded her arms mindfully and arched her back. Like a potion, Regina's emotions were the ingredients; the outcome, though, was one yet to be discovered. She addressed Henry without looking at him. "Henry, dear, I don't suppose you'd give Ms. Swan and I a moment alone, would you?"

The fact that Regina used "Ms. Swan" was the biggest indicator that the sheriff was in deep shit. She only referred to Emma as such whenever they were about to fight, which wasn't very often, but it was often enough. Wrapping his food in a napkin, Henry leapt up swiftly, and kicked sand behind him. "I'll be… over there," he mumbled quickly before running off.

"Ok, what's up? Why are you all pissed off?" Emma asked as she wiped her hands on her jeans and stopped eating long enough to have a real conversation. The crinkling of the brown paper she'd wrapped her bread in threatened to distract Emma; everyone knew she had her own bizarre form of ADHD.

"Why aren't _you_?" Regina wanted to know. "You're acting as if nothing just happened; as if your mother didn't just flee from a crime scene in tears." Now that they were far away from the nosy residents of Main Street, she could get right down to the point. No one else was around to eavesdrop and spread it through the grapevine. It was just the three of them.

"Uh, ok, first of all, that's kind of an overstatement isn't it? It's not like we murdered anyone. Second of all, why are so you worried about Mary Margaret? You know she gets like that— throws a fit. Don't let her mess with you," Emma said evenly. While she'd never admit it to Regina, the Queen already knew: Emma was just as hurt as anyone else would be. The Savior talked big and went around as though nothing ever bothered her, as if she thought she wasn't allowed to be emotional because everyone else needed her to be strong.

"And I suppose you're going to follow your own advice? You're not going to let the woman who gave you life 'mess with you?'"

Repositioning herself until she was parallel with Regina, their legs spread out at opposite ends, Emma rested on her elbows. A part of her was mourning the lack of confirmation from Snow, the burning of a bridge she'd just rebuilt, but the other part wanted to keep going. She didn't want her life with Regina and Henry to stop just because her mother had trouble with it.

"Gina, you know I love you," Emma said.

As if she'd expected more, Regina responded with, "Is that all you have to say?"

"Isn't that enough?"

"I don't know," Regina replied honestly. "Is it?"

"Hey," Emma said as soon as Regina finished, "I meant everything I said to them; I don't need their approval, Gina. _We_ don't need it. We're adults, we can be with whoever we want."

"Even if that means losing your members of your family?"

Her own frustration now matched Regina's, and Emma didn't know what she could say or do to make any of this better. Sure, she understood Regina's desire for answers, but this was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Whenever something bad happened, Emma always separated herself from the issue. She took time to think it over, to review all of the options for fixing it. This was one of those times. The only difference was, it wasn't just Emma who was hurt: Regina had been too.

Before she responded, Emma gave a lot of thought to what her next sentiments would be. Whatever she chose to say, she wanted to be 100% genuine and thoroughly considered. This wasn't something she could just laugh off; this was her life. And right now, Emma felt as if she were stuck in a shoebox with the lid shut tight and exactly four air holes pierced through the top.

As she watched Henry toss grapes into the air and try to catch them with his mouth, Emma recalled all of the times he needed a mother and all of the times that he had Regina. The brunette had taken better care of him than Emma knew she ever could have. False memories or not, Henry was the man he was today because of Regina. This woman, the love of Emma's life had been more than enough. Several days shy of three months into their relationship, the Savior was undoubtedly aware that she would sacrifice anything to be with the Queen. If that meant falling out with Snow White, the mother she only knew for two years, then… so be it.

Gingerly locking her hand into Regina's, Emma peeled her gaze off of her son and looked into the brunette's heart. Even from the outside, she saw the good that was in the woman; the love and light. Emma felt the warmth of Regina's pulse and the steady flow of oxygen that filled her lungs. It was if that contact, that flesh-to-flesh bonded them, fused them together until they were one being.

Nodding to herself, Emma stared straight into her lover's mesmerizing marbles and said exactly what Regina was dreading. "Gina, _you_ are my family."


	2. A Promise to Keep

That evening was spent treading through a dank aura of despair. The mothers and son returned to a freezing, unlit home, having forgotten to leave a light on for when they came back. Not wanting to spoil Henry's fun at the beach, they all stayed until around three o'clock. The women had settled on the rod-like log that the young man had conquered on his own; like always, he was in the middle, and his moms were on both sides of him. They sat together in silence and let their animal brothers and sisters communicate through croaking and hissing. The burning ball of light hovered over the steadying waters as if it were having a conversation with its earth-bound counterpart. When one of the only clouds in the sky passed over the sun, the waves became less frequent, as though it had lost its companion. After, when the sun was visible again, the ocean exulted and clapped against the rubble.

Henry sensed the tension between Emma and Regina; it was as a blatant as a big, fat, red target. Emma would make a few comments about the captivating shapes the waves made in the sand, and Regina would respond with a terse "Hmhm." When Emma tried to engage her girlfriend, the mayor merely nodded, her focus on the incoming tides and their increasing height. Literally stuck in the middle, Henry tried to placate both of them by talking about school and his latest math test, which he aced. However, his efforts were futile. Whatever his mothers had previously discussed in his absence had been too unpleasant to fix. Henry was as powerless as he'd ever been.

Immediately after walking through the front hallway, Regina headed straight for the den and closed the sliding doors. She forced herself to finished the mountains of paperwork she'd brought home over the weekend. Applications for school funding, permission to replace broken water mains, and a plea for more money to finish the repairs on Granny's exterior all taunted Regina mercilessly. Some of the papers, which were packed together in various folders, had coffee stains on the front where her signature was supposed to go. Seeing as she rarely drank that heart attack-inducing beverage, the only other person responsible was Jane, her novice secretary. Regina had asked the woman countless times to be careful with the forms, but it was evident that Jane needed more than just a kind reminder. Between the dried coffee droplets and the misplaced applications— the appeal for new textbooks and the petition to close off Main Street for construction were in opposite folders— and everything else in her life, Regina was running out of steam. She did everything she could not to send a fireball right into the painting of the Enchanted Forest she'd bought from Marco.

While Regina fussed over various mayoral duties and familial concerns, Emma was in the garage, working on her fading yellow Bug. Thanks to Michael Tillman, the sheriff had picked up a few tricks of her own. Her little knowledge of cars meshed with her growing talent for magic always resulted in getting the job done. Today, however, there was no specific task to complete. Emma just had the compulsion to examine the inner organs of her faithful vehicle. With her head under the hood and Foster the People coming in through her static-prone radio, Emma was letting out her own irritations. She just had to work on something— it didn't matter what. As long as she wasn't sitting as still as a nightstand, as long as she kept moving, she would be ok.

Henry had been doing his best to gauge his mother's attention— the attention that seemed to be more glued on the women's individual projects than their son. He went back and forth between the designated areas Emma and Regina seemed to have sectioned off, saying nothing but observing everything. He cracked open the doors to the den just enough to peek through and noticed that Regina's knee was bouncing up and down beneath her desk— a trait usually associated with Emma. And when he checked in on his other mother, he watched Emma rev the engine of the Bug with her magic. It was as if the adults had switched their nervous habits.

When he was sure that a simple "Hey" wouldn't work, Henry resorted to the one thing he hated to do: lying. Unlocking the front door and opening it until the metal brushed against each other audibly, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Moms, I'm gonna go light the clock tower on fire and rob Granny's! I'll be back later!" A few moments went by and neither one of the women appeared from their caves. Henry waited in the open space and refused to let the cool winds faze him. He stood with his legs shoulder-width apart, his sweater zipped and his hood up. With his dark-wash denim jeans, hidden face, and skater-like sneakers, he loosely resembled a delinquent, minus the tattoos. Pawing his brain for another fib, he added, "I'll just grab your keys to the car!"

Making good on his tall tale, Henry rifled through the ceramic bowl and jingled the metal pieces more so than he needed to. Within seconds, two sets of footsteps came from two different directions. Regina strode down the main corridor, while Emma entered through the backdoor and coasted through the kitchen. Thew women stopped at precisely the same moment, exactly five feet from another, and angled inward the same degree amount.

Without looking at each other, the protective parents narrowed their eyes at Henry. For once, he was glad they were about to ground him for whatever reason they decided on. That meant they at least had to talk to the other. He'd so quickly become accustomed to Emma and Regina being together, he already hated when they went for more than an hour without even so much as holding hands.

"All right, you've got the both of us here, Henry. I highly doubt your exaggerations were necessary," Regina said brusquely as she shifted her weight to one hip.

"Creative, I'll give you that," Emma amended. "But totally unnecessary." She wanted to steal a glimpse of Regina, to see how the brunette was holding up, if she still had tears in her eyes. But she didn't. Emma never took her attention off of Henry.

Closing off the sneaky breeze, Henry leaned against the door and fiddled with Regina's keychain. How anyone could carry so many keys on one small ring baffled the boy, but he didn't let that detract from the main topic. "Something's going on. You guys are hiding from each other like two year-olds."

"Henry, dear," the older woman began slowly, "I understand that you are getting older and that there are certain privileges you're coming into, but let me just remind you that we are your mothers and you do _not_ speak to us like that. Do you hear me?"

"Well someone has to say something," he protested. "You can't just go back to hating each other like before."

As if a camera had just flashed in front of them, Emma and Regina's eyelids fluttered in order to regain their vision. They'd had other disagreements before, sure, and Henry had helped them in one way or another, without any complaints. But this was the first time he'd ever expressed what is was like for him— what he saw when they fought. It never occurred to the couple that their spats so much as suggested more than what they felt. For the first time, they were getting Henry's side.

Suddenly, embarrassed and ashamed beyond belief, Regina and Emma stepped forward at the same time, further proving their connected souls. They were so in tune with the other, they started to take it for granted. Glancing at each other, and then at Henry, the women composed themselves enough to assuage his anxiety.

"No one hates anyone, Kid. We've never hated each other," Emma said matter-of-factly, reaching to hold Henry's shoulder. "Sometimes people just don't get along, that doesn't mean they stop caring."

"I'm not five, Mom. I get how it works," Henry grunted, annoyed at his mother's unintentional condescension.

"With all due respect, Henry, I don't think you do," Regina objected. Henry was almost the same height as her, just tall enough for them to meet eyes. It was both a milestone and a loss for the mother; her son was really growing up. He was no longer the little child with the hight-pitched voice and constantly rosy-cheeked. Henry was a young man now; that was clear in his charisma and his maturity. Regina knew he wasn't being stubborn out of immaturity, but out of his care for her and Emma. Bending her knees slightly, until she was perfectly square with Henry, Regina took her keys back and removed the hood. "This… this is still new to me— to all of us. There are no instructions or manuals for this. Today was an obstacle and right now, Emma and I are just doing our best to… let it all settle."

"Apart?" Henry pushed.

Emma noticed Regina struggling to create a sufficient response and swooped in, further fulfilling her duties as the Savior. She took Henry's hand, which was as cold as ice. "How about this, Kid. Whaddu you say you and I take a walk? I know we were outside all day, but I think some fresh air will make things better. It'll give your mom some space."

Half grateful, half miffed with the blonde for assuming she wanted to be alone— even though she was right— Regina added, "By the time you get back, I'm sure Emma and I will figure something out."

Yanking his limb back, he shoved his hands into his pockets; he pulled hood over again, further covering his features and a shadow masked him. "Um… I think I'll just go upstairs. I'm… I'm kind of tired."

Never even letting his mothers bid farewell, Henry trampled up the stairs and slammed the door to his room; the violent sound resonated through the spacious house and vibrated through the walls. Emma's ears rang for a few seconds after their son vanished, from the crash and Henry's insane perceptiveness. She didn't want to, but she felt her torso twist until she caught sight of Regina, who looked as guilty as ever.

"He'll be fine, Gina," Emma said. "He's a tough kid."

"He shouldn't have to be," the Queen muttered. "It's not fair to him. Henry deserves a normal life, not one crammed with chaos and fictional fairy tales."

"True, it might be easier if he had a life outside of Storybrooke. But, you can't ignore the fact that _this_ is his normal. His grandfathers are Rumplestiltskin and Prince Charming; his grandmother's Snow White, and his mothers are the Savior and the—"

"I know quite well what his family tree looks like, thank you," Regina cut her off bitterly. She folded her arms one over the other, but it was more like a hug; she was comforting herself. "I should get back to work," she said shortly. "I'll get dinner started in an hour."

"I can do that," Emma offered, semi-desperately. "The lasagna recipe's in the bedroom, right? In the jewelry box?" As if she were expecting Henry to be sitting on the top of the staircase like he used to, Emma craned her neck, but he wasn't there.

"No need. I can handle making a meal. You go on back to your decrepit chunk of metal." Regina exited their little zone of intimacy and went back to what she was doing before: wistfully approving everyone's requests. None of them were extremely harmful to the town or the the budget. It was a sickeningly easy job to do.

Emma, meanwhile, remained in the rotunda with her thumbs in her belt loops. The scratchy denim rubbed against her knuckles as she held onto the straps like a cowboy. The way she saw it, she had three options: 1) she could go and try mend things with Henry, 2) she go could and try mend things with Regina, or 3) she could go and try mend things with Snow. If coins had three sides, Emma would have tossed one and let that decide for her.

Early dusk had just begun to nestle itself into the cushions that were the white puffs of vapor. The gentle, blue tones melded into navy and then cotton-candy pink. The clouds went from paper-white to a dazzling orange sorbet, all natural weapons of the night. Heavenly rays of sun burst from behind the cotton balls and sprayed over Storybrooke like a storm. The flame-colored beams of light created a tint that weaved itself through the neighborhoods and under the bridge.

In the end, Emma chose to go through with neither of the options she'd laid out for herself. Like her son and partner, she went back to what she'd been doing before; Emma retuned to her car, the one thing that wasn't mad at her. Closing the hood and wiping the oil stains from the body, she got into the driver's seat and cranked up the tunes. The poor radio reception resulted in crackling and sputtering through the speakers, as if the automobile were centuries old. She rested against the stiff headrest, rolled the windows down, and left the vehicle on just enough to listen to music— not enough for the engine to roar through the small arena. Emma let the melodic voice of Ed Sheeran send her off into dreamworld, freely relinquishing her power to stay awake…

_The void in Emma's arms was filled by a slender individual with shiny, brown hair that swayed with even the slightest movement. She felt someone's heartbeat against her own, smelled that familiar smell, and listened to ragged breathing. The women were absolutely and unconditionally in love with each other, and they were only on their third date. But then, this is what they'd both been waiting for since the moment they met. The spark that had been ignited the night that Emma brought Henry back from Boston, that instant reaction, had been the first step on the road to their happy ending. _

_In the center of the forest, in the darkest of dark nights, it was just the two of them; they were free to be loud and obnoxious or quiet and sincere. There were no rules or guidelines to how they should act around each other, and there were no expectations. From day one, the agreement was to let it be— whatever "it" was didn't matter._

_All Emma could see was the face of the woman she loved with everything that she was and everything she would ever be. The blood red lips, the radiant glow, the fierce courage. She had never, in her entire existence, been in the company of someone so incredibly magnificent; she regretted that it hadn't happened sooner— that _they_ hadn't happened sooner. Next to the first racing heart, Emma's own vessel worked furiously to pump life into her system. When her lips parted, she felt the words spill from her like a waterfall, except she was more a witness than a participant. Everything that she said was engrained in her memory, as if she could ever forget. _

_With the twinkling, gaseous bubbles hanging in space, they pressed their foreheads together and closed their eyes. "I never want this to end," Emma whispered as she kissed the woman's nose. _

_"Neither do I." _

_The blonde readjusted her hold on the mayor, but never let go or loosened her grip. Her back was up against a hallow tree trunk, which made it even easier to embrace her date. As she looked up above, a shooting star zoomed through the atmosphere and vanished into oblivion. "Let's make a wish," she said. "Better yet, let's make a promise. I, Emma Swan, promise to fight for you, protect you, and love you until the day that I die." _

_Seeing no reason to fight, the brunette smiled at Emma, unable to fathom how it was possible to be so incredibly infatuated with another human being. "All right. I, Regina Mills, promise to be good, to be honest, and to love you until my very last breath." _

"Emma?" There was an abrupt creaking in the space around the sleeping sheriff and soon, it was as if the world were being shaken like a snow globe. Regina tried to be considerate and close the door at the slowest speed possible, but Emma still jolted awake as though she'd just been punched.

"Gina?" she slurred and wiped the line of drool off of her chin. Emma rubbed her eyes forcefully until there was only one Queen before her, not two. She was brought back to reality just like that; with one glance at Regina's apologetic frown, one whiff of the freshly baked lasagna.

Regina sat with her legs crossed, even in the car. She'd never been particularly fond of the Bug, that was no secret, and since dating Emma, she often refused to ride in it. However, since they weren't going anywhere, and since they didn't have anywhere to go, Regina compromised and placed herself on the tattered, leather chair. It was then she realized last she'd been in there, was the stakeout back in March. "You were in here for a while… I thought… I thought you left."

Resting her elbow on the windowsill in an effort to come across as casual, Emma gave Regina a kind, semi-smile. "Nope. You know I wouldn't do that."

"Yes, I… I guess I do. Making up for much needed rest, I gather." Picking at her nail polish, which she would later regret, Regina rotated her body until she was facing the Savior. It was clear that Emma had been in a deep coma when she'd walked in, and she didn't take any joy in waking her up. When she hadn't heard from the blonde or seen her since they'd all talked, Regina got worried. "Emma, listen," she sighed. "This, what we've been doing, it's wonderful. It's more than I could have ever dreamed of, and I haven't experienced this kind of exuberance in years, not since… well, not since Daniel. It's still all rather difficult for me to connect so easily. I just think that—"

"I know," Emma said. "We should take some time apart. I get it, I pushed too hard. I knew better and—"

"No! No that's not what I'm saying! Emma, look," Regina shifted uncomfortably. "I love you, that much is crystal clear to me. You and Henry are all that I ever think about, I promise you. I just— it's— it's all happening so fast, you see. One moment we're breaking curses together and the next you're moving in. Not that I'm not happy you're here, Emma, I am—"

"Gina, slow down. You're going off in too many different directions."

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Regina shook her head. "I'm sorry, Emma. That's what I'm trying to say. I'm sorry that I'm not very good at all of this." Unable to stop herself, Emma let a roll of laughter escaped her lips. It wasn't that she found any of this funny, not in the least. It was more laughter of relief. When she saw Regina's severe expression, she feared the worst. For a split second, Emma fully believed Regina was going to break up with her. "And just what is so amusing?" Regina demanded, insulted at the woman's reaction.

Holding her sides, Emma gasped for air. "It's not… it's not you…" she panted. "Sorry." Wiping the moisture from her eyes, the Savior cleared her throat and waited until she'd fully regained control. "Look, Gina, I'm not upset or anything. I just… I'm still trying to get you to let me in. It's like, you go from being as easy to read as a picture book, to having to use a magnifying class to figure out what's wrong. You don't have to do that anymore, Gina. You don't have to shut yourself off. I'm right here."

"You're right, I know," Regina said, fidgeting with her shirt. "I'm sorry."

"And stop apologizing. Jesus, not everything is on you. I shouldn't have pressured you."

Something was going on within Regina; it wasn't like that butterfly flutter she usually got. This was more like coils twisting and tying themselves into knots, right in the pit of her stomach. Her palms were cold and clammy, her knees weren't as steady as they should have been, and for the first time in a weeks, she was truly frightened of being with Emma. "You have to understand; until last year, being alone was _my _normal. Henry was all that I had and— and now…"

"Now you have me," Emma finished the thought. "And that scares the hell out of you." Regina nodded timidly, her chin falling to her chest. Although this was a meditative place in time, Emma still found Regina undeniably attrative. To prove her pledge of allegiance, she tossed an arm around Regina's shoulders and motioned for the woman to lean in. That comforting warm body was all Emma wanted right now— to hold Regina. Just like in her memory/dream, she felt the brunette breathing next to her, as if she needed Emma right next to her in order to push through. "I'm not going anywhere, Gina. No matter how scared you get or how big of a tantrum Mary Margaret throws, I'm not leaving you. I swear with every ounce of magic in my being, I will _never_ leave you."


	3. Family Affairs

Seven excruciatingly long days tore through the Swan-Mills household. 168 hours of exhaustion rolled by, destroying everything in its wake. June sprang upon the people of Storybrooke like a surprise party, but the summertime contentment was nowhere to be found. While Regina and Emma made up that Saturday night, there was still a residual strain between the women. Putting on forced smiles for Henry, carefully gliding over the subject of his grandparents, and patiently awaiting something from Snow demonstrated two things: how much Henry and his mothers supported each other, and how treacherous the waiting game could become if left up to fate.

During that week, Henry attended school, his moms returned to work as they always did, and life among the once-fictional characters played out like a dull film. They all resumed the roles they'd happily fulfilled for several months, the roles that were once as natural as hunger. But now, it was as if they all had to prepare for an elaborate day on a movie set. They went about their usual responsibilities on the same schedule as they always did, but after telling David and Snow, none of them were really themselves— they were… different. There was no laughter in the Swan-Mils home, no smiling. It was as dreary as it had been before Emma Swan ever came to town, despite the lackluster efforts of the parents to lighten the mood.

Henry was conflicted; he loved his grandparents and everything they taught him. However, he loved his mothers— possibly more— and couldn't bear to watch them bite back the Charmings' names at dinner or to see Emma stiffen whenever she thought about them. To be fair, though, David was talked about several times. It was Snow White who was the dangerous one to bring up. No one ever so much as described what she looked like, let alone acknowledged that fact that she was David's wife and Emma's mother. It was the blonde who decided she wanted Snow to make the first move, being the parent and all.

Regina divided her time between work and home, as she always did, but it seemed as if she were staying later and later at night in the office. It wasn't as if the files had gotten much higher in preceding days. If anything, she was going through them at a phenomenal rate; stamping approval on 95% of the packets. She skimmed the tiny fonts and black ink, squinted through her purple frames, searched for the main request, and made the snappy decision of whether or not it would be granted. Jane said nothing when Regina brought out 39 folders with a green mark of consent on the covers, and still held her tongue when the mayor willingly met with Leroy about the dwarves and the construction. It was no secret that Regina wasn't exactly fond of the small group of even smaller men. But, if it kept her busy, the brunette did it.

Because Emma worked with her father, there was no escaping her family. It wasn't so much that she wanted to _escape_, exactly, but more, she wanted some space— she didn't want to be so close. And, while David was the supportive parent in this instance, she read the yearning in his body language to talk about her mother— the mother who Emma refused to ever think about, if she could help it. She and David discussed sports, Henry's grades, Red and Whale, everything other than the Princess. When David's phone rang and it was Her, he stepped outside and answered it. When She texted him, he turned away to text back. He was doing everything that he could to make this easier on both his wife and daughter, but between the grown women and the baby who needed his constant care, Prince Charming was hardly charming anymore. He'd turned into a gruff old man, easily irritable and jonesing for a beer, a cigarette, even a sleeping potion.

As for Storybrooke, it had been rather uneventful. In the aftermath of the Swan-Mills-Charming incident, no one knew but the family; that's exactly how it was going to stay. There was enough gossip in the town, including stuff about Emma and Regina. There was no need whatsoever to feed the residents with information that had nothing to do with them. But, try as they might, Emma and Regina's gloomy attitudes were rubbing off on the rest of the folks. Archie and Pongo missed a day outside, Granny's opened late that Monday morning, and Gold's shop never even opened on Tuesday. The two leaders of the town had no idea their melancholy was so contagious. It could have easily been remedied, though. All it took was Snow to break the ice— the already cracked, melting layer.

* * *

It was a slow day at the station Monday morning— nine days after The Day. Emma had just arrived with an iced coffee and a bear claw, sunglasses on, and her red coat over her arm; it was always freezing in the metal cabinet-filled room. The shoelace she used to wear was absent from her wrist, but Neal's chain dangled over her chest. There hadn't been a day since his service that she'd taken it off. Regina didn't begrudge her the token, just as Emma didn't begrudge Regina Daniel's cloak— yes, she knew about it.

The already agitated blonde sheriff had slept past her alarm, which always put her in a grump. Both Henry and Regina had already left for school and work, which only frustrated Emma more when she wondered why they didn't wake her up. Instead of having to rush out of the house in the nearest set of clothes, unsure of whether she wore them already or not, and almost forgetting to lock the door, she could have taken her time like she usually did. Prematurely giving up on the day, she didn't even bother driving in to work; she strolled leisurely down the sidewalk. If she was already late, there was no need to rush.

The early June weather was something to be desired. The off-the-grid town hadn't seen a drop of rain since the middle of April; "seen," being the operative word. There had been a few thunderstorms here and there, but they mostly occurred at night when everyone else was tucked away in their beds with the windows shut. Lilies and Daisies were sprouting in the gardens, the temperature was in the high 60's, and every morning was commenced by, chubby, singing Sparrows. It should have been a peaceful time for all. The problem was, it wasn't.

Completely in her own world, Emma didn't realize she was by herself until she'd taken her glasses off, fell back in her rolling chair, and chomped down on her gooey breakfast— Regina would be disgusted. The desk across from her was empty and there was no sign of it ever being occupied to begin with. The surface was as clean as Charming's sword, naked of all clutter and mess, unlike Emma's wreck of a workspace. Pens and pencils had yet to be removed from their plastic container, the computer was turned off, and the chair was in the same position that Emma remembered it being the night before: facing the wall.

Something was up.

Pushing herself onto her feet, Emma slunked back outside, as if she were on autopilot, and searched for Charming's truck. She looked up and down the block, even craning her neck around the corner. It wasn't there. Mild panic kickstarting in the pit of her stomach, Emma carried herself to Granny's and stuck her head in momentarily, but David wasn't there either. Granny waved to the sheriff, who was too distracted to return the gesture.

Placing herself in the middle of the sidewalk, Emma dug for her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she landed on D— "Dad." She let it ring for a minute, hung up when she heard the voicemail machine, and then tried again. All in all, Emma called David seven times, never haring the sound of his voice. The panic that had nestled itself into her gut started to spread through her system, seeped into her veins, and controlled her every move. With her legs guiding her forward, Emma jogged to Regina's building, wondering if there was a new case that she'd missed out on and they'd forgotten to call.

Knocking down the doors and gliding past Jane, Emma strutted into the Mayor's Office— it was as vacant as the Enchanted Forest had been. Just like David's area, Regina's computer screen was black, all of her supplies were in their homes, and there was absolutely no indication that she had ever been into work in the first place. Something was definitely wrong.

Busting through the doors again, Emma sprinted towards her parents' apartment— the only other place she could think to look. She tried telephoning Regina, but she was hit with an answering machine as well. It was never a good sign when neither David nor Regina picked up their calls. With every step she took, Emma's heart beat faster and faster until it felt as if was about to explode from her chest. Her pulse quickened as she raced up the stairs of the complex and landed in front of the Charmings' home. After every unanswered knock, Emma kept picturing the very worst. Was Zelena back? Did she get Lance? Did she hurt David? Or Snow? She thought she heard voices from inside, but to her, it was white noise. It cut in and out like the radio in her car.

Finally, after pounding on the barrier with a closed fist for an eternity, the door swung open and revealed the one person Emma hadn't anticipated seeing: Regina Mills. Dressed in pleated slacks and a white button down, this _was_ her casual. The top three buttons were undone, Regina's usually conditioned hair was missing its shine, and she was wearing flats— not heels.

Emma's face fell when she saw Regina. That was the first sign that something bad had happened; the Queen rarely spent time with the David and Snow if she could help it, unless it was for Henry's sake. Why the hell was she there? "David? Mary Margaret?" Emma called out, brushing past Regina. She trotted up the metal staircase in the center of the studio and then back down, aiming for the Charmings' room. Adrenaline pushing her forward, Emma stumbled through the doorway that David had designed and installed, right into the man. When she gathered her bearings, she realized she'd just walked in on Snow nursing Lance— they were both safe.

Shocked at her daughter's sudden appearance, everything Mary Margaret had wanted to tell Emma escaped her mind. It didn't matter to her that Emma just saw her bare chest, what mattered was that the speech she'd created, the words of wisdom she'd hoped to pass on were gone— Snow couldn't remember them. In her defense, her morning had been… hectic.

Leading Emma back into the living room like a stray cow, where Regina was reprimanded herself, David had never been so enervated, which was saying a lot. His arms and legs felt like heavy, metal curtain rods; his eyes burned from lack of adequate rest, and his jaw went slack. Any battery charge he had left in him had been used up. David was barely functioning. "Lance got sick around sunrise, Emma. He wasn't eating anything or responding to the medicine we gave him, so we called Regina. We thought maybe… maybe she could help."

Still flustered, Emma tried to comprehend what her father was saying; his weariness lost on her as she went into a tirade. "You used magic on him? You used magic on my brother?" she rephrased, approaching Regina. David reached for Emma, but he was too weak to hold her back; she was fuming. "Are you insane? Why didn't you call me?! Why didn't you come and get me?!"

"It wasn't her fault," Snow defended as she cradled Lance, having located her voice. She shuffled over to the other adults, hugging the child close to her. When Emma saw her baby sibling in his white and blue-striped onesie, drowning in his clothes, her heart skipped a beat; he looked as if he'd just survived the flames hell. He was pale, even paler than Snow. His cheeks were sunken in and his bones were so brittle, Emma could see them through his translucent epidermis. "We asked her not to tell you."

Deftly taking Lance, Emma was almost afraid to hold him, mostly because she didn't want to break him. Like a doll, he was motionless, except for his slowly rising midsection. She didn't know exactly what she was feeling, but horror was among the surplus of emotions. "What happened?" she asked slowly, wanting to know everything. "Was it… magical?"

As though Emma's burst of rage hadn't just occurred, Regina answered her question tenderly. "The cause, no. The solution, fortunately, was. Henry had the same thing at his age. It was a nasty ear infection, but isn't wasn't anything a healing potion couldn't cure. After that, your brother exhibited an appetite quite similar to yours, dear."

"That's— that's it? Just a potion? No spells or anything?" Emma clarified. She grazed the darkening hair on Lance's small head, careful of his soft spot.

"No spells," Regina confirmed, doing her best to conceal her own disconcertion. She hadn't told David or Snow the truth yet, and to be honest, she wasn't even sure she wanted Emma to know. They'd all taken a risk using just using a simple potion on Lance, which Regina informed the royals. But, being the new parents that they were, they were willing to pay the price, so long as Lance's health could be ensured. Regina was starting to think it wasn't even their price to pay.

The sleeping infant stirred in Emma's arms, though he never opened his eyes. His little body had been through enough in the last day and a half, he needed the time to recuperate. When she stopped doting on Lance, Emma realized that they were all in the same room together— she, Regina, David and Mary Margaret. All of her attempts to avoid her mother had ended up backfiring. "Thanks, Lance," she lamented, though not seriously. She was beyond relieved that he was ok. And, she was beyond grateful to Regina. "Sorry about before," she said to the brunette.

"No need. I would have done the same thing. In fact, I've done worse," Regina chided, with great ease, she might add. When she saw David's number pop up on her phone, she was as clueless as the next person as to why he'd be calling her of all people. But, as soon as she heard his voice and the franticness lined in his words, she teleported there in mere minutes. Emma was still unconscious when she left, which wasn't an optimal situation. However, considering that she'd been able to help the Charmings' and an innocent baby, Regina would accept the consequences.

"Well, one thing is certain," Snow started meekly, "I should apologize for the way that I acted when you… when I found it." The stressed mother glided to the chair she sat in on Saturday, only this time, she knew what she was getting into. "I'm not exactly proud of my reaction, Emma, it's just— I wasn't expecting to— I was surprised." David carefully lifted his content son out of Emma's embrace and put him in the basinet next to the couch. Mismatched socks, belonging to adults and infants, were thrown around the apartment. The sink was overflowing with plastic bottles and detached lids, the countertops were covered in bags of diapers, and the coffee table was engulfed in colorful toys— toys Emma never had growing up. "This is the isn't the first time you've saved us, in one way or another," Snow continued, addressing Regina specifically. "Although, for me, it doesn't discount the times you've tried to hurt us."

So close to each other that their legs touched, Emma and Regina looked just as they always had to Snow: powerful, bold, and intelligent. It'd been a while since she was intimated by Regina anymore, and she supposed she could credit that to their year back in the Enchanted Forest. She and the Queen had settled a lot of their differences in their land, dug up their messy history and wiped the slate clean. There was something about their home that gave them that nudge to do the right thing. Whenever Regina thought about seeing Henry again, she wanted him to know that she'd truly changed; that she was willing to put the past behind her and move on. Making amends with Snow White happened to be a crucial element.

Having trouble maintaining her stoic facade, Regina deviated from Emma and did her best to look as collected and unaffected as she could. "You and I don't exactly have a clean record, that's no secret," she said to Snow. "I've been the cause of unaccounted for amounts of pain, most of which I regret and admit were unnecessary. Many promises of been broken on my end, Mary Margaret." Locking her knees until she felt her calves flex instinctively, Regina forced herself to continue. "I've never actually apologized for everything I've done, and I know that isn't enough. This is the best that I can do."

Snow listened with a heavy heart, knowing very well that Regina never opened up like that. This wasn't just a turning point in their decades-long feud, it was a breakthrough. Regina, the Evil Queen, was revealing her innermost confessions. Even when she was a little girl, Snow had seldom witnessed this side of Regina. The last time she'd seen that sparkle in the older woman's eyes was when she was with Daniel. It was then that it all clicked for Snow.

"Give me a while to… understand. Please, I just need…" the King's daughter struggled pathetically, grappling for a mature response.

"You need some time," Emma said in a sympathetic tone. It wasn't so hard to talk to her mother when Snow didn't run off in tears. It was actually quite civil; Emma felt more comfortable than she had two Saturdays ago. "Do what you need to do," she repeated her motto. "When you're ready, you've got my number."

Purposefully so, Emma snagged Regina's hand and held onto it for dear life. The two of them rose from the couch, nodded to David and to Snow, and saw themselves out. Emma was ready to go home and rid herself of the negative energy in the room; it was like wading through a disease-ridden, war-torn town.

When they got into the hallway, both of the women fell against the wall as if they'd just returned from a year in space, their legs weak and an incessant drumming in their ears. Neither one of them let go of the other, however. If anything, they tightened their grasp until they were able to stand on their own two feet again and the pounding subsided.

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" Emma half-joked.

"If that's your idea of 'not bad,' then I'm not sure I want to know your idea of terrible." The two of them glided down the stairs in perfect synchronization. Several flights of steps and nine homes later, they landed onto the flat, tiled floors that looked as if they hadn't been swept in years. Dust bunnies and crumpled straw wrappers rolled along the grubby ground with an air of entitlement, as if they belonged there; as if the building was as much their home as it was the living tenants.' Scratch marks from sneakers and permanent residue stuck to the once polished flooring, and being the neat freak that she was, Regina tried to fix the eyesore with a flick of her wrist— not even thinking about the possible price of such a small undertaking. Out of nowhere, her intent for the trash to sweep into the proper receptacles flopped. An orange, burning ball of fire shot from the Queen and splattered against the tile.

"Jesus!" Emma cried, quickly stomping on the wrappers that had been engulfed in flames. She slammed her boots against tiny infernos until they were nonexistent. "What the hell was that?!"

Regina didn't answer right away; she was staring at her hand as if she'd never seen anything like it before in her life. She moved it back and forth, open and closed her fingers like an athlete stretching on game day. She held it out in front of her, absolutely mystified and terrified at the same time. As she flexed her muscles, Emma cringed away, expecting another bout of fireworks. She didn't get what was so fascinating. "Gina?" Emma snapped her own two fingers to try and yank Regina out of whatever frozen element she'd just entered. "Regina? You in there?"

Dropping her arms to her sides and doing the top buttons she'd overlooked all morning, to Emma's own dismay, Regina returned to reality. "Can you pick up Henry from school today?" she asked cryptically, making certain that she had her bag and phone with her.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Hey, what's going on? You ok?" Emma wondered. She reached for Regina, but the mayor dodged the gesture as she skittered down the corridor. "Gina, wait!" Emma chased after her girlfriend. Like a cat charging after a mouse, Emma and Regina had lost their perfect synchronization and their steps were splintered, out of time. The royal was miles away from reality, fragmented thoughts forcing themselves into her conscious, only fueling her dread. She completely disregarded the friendly faces on the streets, failed to wave back to Archie, and almost stepped into the busy road. Had Emma not caught her, Regina would've been slammed into by Doc's Miata, which was still recovering from the battle of the Sisters. "Shit, Regina, slow down!" Emma griped, pulling her partner back onto the sidewalk. "What's wrong with you?"

Her head spinning somewhat, the brunette wrestled with the variations of herself whispering to her. Puny droplets of perspiration gathered at the base of her back, just below the slight curve that Emma always fit into at night. Regina hid her shaking hands behind her and put all of her energy into lying— Emma would undoubtedly use her power. "I have to talk to Gold about something. I should make sure your brother will be all right. Considering Rumplestiltskin is also the Seer."

Over the course of the last few weeks, Emma was having more and more trouble sensing if and when Regina was telling a lie. She rarely used her power, as she hoped Regina was always being honest. Emma just assumed whenever she and Regina engaged in conversations, her partner had left the infidelity behind. Right now, Emma was doing her damnedest to detect even the slightest fib, but she just… couldn't. Releasing Regina, the blonde was all but assuaged of any suspicion. "I'll go with you," she said, thinking her company would either prove Regina's statement or contradict it.

"No!" Regina replied without missing a beat. "No, you need to get Henry, Emma."

"You really think it'll take four hours to ask Gold a few questions?" the sheriff challenged, checking the time on her phone. It was only 11:30— school didn't get out until 3:30.

Feeling as if she were being backed into a corner, the Old Regina crept back into the New Regina. "I don't have to explain myself to you, Ms. Swan. Now if you'd please, return to the job you're being paid to do and leave me to mine!"

* * *

Regina didn't go to Gold. After raising her voice at Emma, she retreated to the crypt. Beyond guilty for creating a scene and humiliating the both of them, she just wanted answers— she couldn't do that in town, not with everyone there and so ready to advertise their ow versions and speculations. She was positive she'd left a juicy amount of damage back on Main Street, which she would do her best to clean up once she got back, but Regina panicked. And, when she panicked, she lost herself in the Evil Queen.

When she got to the Charmings' place, the first thing Regina did was try a mending spell on Lance. Usually, that sort of thing fixed whatever was wrong with a person, even if it wasn't necessarily an injury. If done correctly, it returned a being to their former state of health. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case for Regina and the baby. She'd done the spell many a time in the past, but today, it didn't work. There was no yellow beam of light, Lance still balled his eyes out, and the parents were still nervous wrecks. In an attempt to cover her failure, Regina told David and Snow that she was just doing a magical examination— they bought it. So, she decided to use a potion. Her powers may have been wacking out, but crafting a potion didn't require such. To the relief of all of the adults, Lance drank it without a fuss and it worked instantly. His contorted face relaxed, his stomach growled for food, and the gray tint to his cheeks vanished.

But, when Regina tried to use her powers again, and they fizzled— again— she was shaken. This never happened to her. _Never_. Since her trainings with Gold and coming into her own as a witch, she hadn't had any problems with magic— not like this. A simple wish to clean a room was not supposed to result in flames. Only grossly unexperienced sorceresses made such errors.

Here she was, back in the family mausoleum that she'd been fervently avoiding since Zelena caused mayhem among the community. Regina had put as much distance between herself and the stone cage as possible, but now, she didn't know where else to go. While she wasn't going to discuss her magical setback with Gold, she had to confer with another powerful being. Tinker Bell was ok; she hadn't been thrilled to hear that the Dust hadn't worked the way she thought, but she didn't hold any grudges towards Regina. The Fairy understood that love happened in ways people least expected it. For that very reason, however, because Tinker Bell was so innocent, Regina didn't want to bring her in whatever was going on. Not again.

Aside from Rumplestiltskin and Tinker Bell, there was no one else in Storybrooke who could possibly help Regina… other than the Blue Fairy. The two women hadn't exactly the best relationship, but then again, Regina didn't have the best relationship with the majority of the town. The Blue Fairy was one of the good guys; she played by all of the rules Regina had trampled on for years. They were on opposite ends of the spectrum, Blue and Regina. Nevertheless, the Queen needed someone.

While she waited for Mother Superior to show up, Regina practiced her magic to make sure that it wasn't just a fluke. She tried conjuring fireballs, but that only resulted in blowing up part of the vault. She worked on summoning small items like glass vials, but instead, she received a pair of heels from under her bed. Then, Regina focused on enacting a locator spell on the picture of herself, Henry, and Emma that the blonde had given her. However, the small photograph never even lifted off of the concrete slab. At this point, Emma was more in control of her powers than Regina was.

Wallowing in her own haze of defeat, Regina hardly noticed when Blue came tiptoeing into the grim enclosure. The Fairy looked as she always did, sans her cloak. It was getting too hot outside for a wool layer and Blue was comfortable just to wear her usual navy dress and black stockings. A little shorter than Regina, she found herself peering up at the Queen on the few occasions that they had any contact.

"Your Majesty," Blue addressed her former nemesis timidly.

Leaping several inches off of the ground, Regina all but screamed at the start. She grabbed her chest dramatically and took a few seconds to catch her breath. It was clear that Blue was hesitant to be in such a cramped space with the Evil Queen, and Regina felt that she deserved the apprehensive expression on the Fairy's face. "Thank you for coming," she sighed respectfully.

"Yes, well, I almost didn't," Blue admitted unabashedly. Her reddish brown hair was pulled back in its usual compact bun, not so much as a strand out of place. If there was anyone else who was as OCD as Regina, it was Blue.

"Thank you anyway," Regina said.

"You were rather vague on the phone, Madame Mayor. How exactly can I be of service to you?" Blue asked without even a hint of trepidation. Being in the same room as Regina was somewhat frightening, but once she opened her mouth, Blue had no problems being frank. After all, they were no more than associates.

Having gone over and over what she would say, Regina responded promptly and evenly. "It would seem, 'Sister,' that I'm having some difficulty with, erm, magic. You see, the problem is, well, look for yourself." Motioning to the trunk at the other end of the room, Regina meant to retrieve Daniel's cape. But, the chest didn't comply. Instead, the small chunks of metal burst with sparks until it sizzled out.

"I gather that's not what you wanted to happen," Blue commented calmly.

"No, it's not."

"All right. I'm still not clear about why you asked for me, Your Majesty—"

"Regina. Please, call me Regina. I'm… not her anymore."

Repositioning her entire posture, Blue felt goosebumps rise on her neck. "Regina," she said, the name laced with the grievance only ages of feuds could cause, "Why have you called upon me when The Dark One and Tinker Bell are at your disposal? Both of whom know you better than I do, and both of whom you've worked with before— not against."

Too jumpy to go into the details of why she did or didn't call who, Regina brushed it off and cut to the chase. "I need to know why this is happening. It matters not who I did or didn't choose, you're here now. I'm asking you kindly. Please, can you explain this?"

Reading the desperation in the once-all mighty, commandeering witch, Blue felt a small amount of accord with the woman; there was still no sign of any threat. This was a first for the Fairy. She'd never witnessed the Queen in such a distraught manner; the brunette wasn't being aggressive towards her or blackmailing her, but pleading with Blue. Regina Mills was begging for help. In that moment, the mayor wasn't Blue's enemy; the mayor was just another human being seeking assistance.

Cautiously closing the enormous gap between them with a couple of steps, Blue let go of her rigid front. Searching Regina's harried body language, blanched knuckles from tight fists and shallow breathing, it was all too clear to Mother Superior. "You really aren't aware, are you?"

"Aware of what?" Regina bit, stiffening her spine.

"A witch's magic is only ever tampered with under two occasions; one, she is under the direct control of another being. Or two, she…"

Dying of suspense, the older sorceress moved forward. "She what?"

Suddenly stuck by a pang of compassion, Blue said her next few words with great consideration. "She is expecting."

Not allowing for even a millisecond of processing, Regina slammed down the claims. "And if I'm neither?"

"Regina," Blue exhaled. "Those are the only possible events."

"But— but I'm not being controlled by anyone and I'm certainly not…" trailing off, Regina's eyes widened. Automatically, her hand flew to her abdomen and she rifled through her brain; her entire body began to tremble. "That's impossible," she refuted. "It's not!"

"Magic," Blue sighed, replying to Regina's unspoken question. "As I understand it, you and the Savior are True Loves. You should know above anyone else, Regina: True Love is the most powerful magic that exists."

Gravitating towards the wall, Regina landed flat against the cool surface. Suddenly, she was engulfed by a violent heat wave; she fanned herself weakly as the entire crypt began revolving in front of her. She wanted to slide down and sit on the cement, anything to get off of her feet. She was afraid she was going to fall when Blue caught her just in time. The last thing that Regina saw before blacking out, was a worried nun hovering above her.


	4. Words for Weapons

Regina woke up to the scent of cheese pizza wafting up to her bedroom. Lifting her head just an inch, she saw from the window that the sun was already setting and the traditional cotton-candy shades were painted in the sky. The white, transparent layer danced over the opened aperture as a chilly wind slid inside. Beneath the blankets, Regina was shielded from the blasts of air.

Seeing the time on the clock, she shot into a sitting position, but froze when she remembered the events of the day. Without realizing it, she was caressing her flat stomach, a faint smile spread over her lips. That small grin dissolved, though, when Regina tried to recall how she'd gotten home. Flashes of her meeting with Blue replayed before her, but that was it. She saw the Fairy standing across from her, she felt her heart galloping in her chest, and she heard what Blue was telling her. But that was it. That was all Regina had.

Noting the voices of the two people she loved most, Regina mindfully held herself up, stretched her arms— too worried to move her torso— and walked slowly down the stairs. The only lights that were on were the kitchen and dining room's, but that was enough to illuminate the entire house. Dishes clattering together and the sound of the refrigerator opening and closing echoed down the hall, tugging Regina into the direction of her family.

In the center of the table was a cardboard box with grease stains on the lid and sides. Purple placemats were positioned in a sort of triangle, matching napkins were folded next to the empty plates that Henry and just set, and barren cups waited to have juice poured. Emma was filling a plastic pitcher of cider just the way Regina taught her, totally unaware of her love's presence.

"This is what happens when I don't cook: takeout of the most fattening food in existence," Regina chuckled.

"Madame Mayor," Emma said curtly. As soon as she said it, Regina was reminded of their spat. She didn't bother to see if Regina was remorseful or not, she already knew. She just had to say it; she'd been waiting all day to get back at her partner. It was Emma's inner teenager.

"Such a gentleman," Regina said affectionately, kissing the side of Henry's face as he pulled out her chair for her, all the while overlooking Emma's comments. She examined the feast that the Savior had arranged and choked back the rest of her sarcastic comments. Less pressing, she also wondered why she wasn't nauseas at all. If Blue was right, and if Regina really was pregnant, wasn't sickness part of that package? Transforming her creased brow, and hiding her own bewilderment, she beamed up at Emma. "This looks lovely, dear," she said sincerely.

The sheriff scoffed in amusement. "From 'Ms. Swan' to 'dear.' Go figure." Bringing the square jug of cider, Emma sat next to Regina and they all reached for a slice. "Sleep well? When we got home, you were seriously out."

_Blue,_ Regina thought to herself. The Fairy must have brought her back before Emma and Henry noticed her absence. So maybe the side of good wasn't so bad, Regina figured. "Yes, very well," she said. "I suppose I was making up for this morning."

"Oh yeah, Mom told me," Henry jumped in before chomping down on his bubbling sliver of bread and cheese. "That was cool of you to help, Mom," he said to Regina.

"It was nothing, dear," she said modestly.

"It was the right thing," Henry corrected. "That's not nothing."

Using her hand instead of her napkin, Emma licked the sauce off of her lips and flipped her twists out of her way. "Don't get me wrong, I would've gladly changed your diapers Kid. You know that. But, man, I'm kinda happy I didn't have to see you in pain like that, especially as a baby. David and Mary Margaret looked like they'd just been hit by a bus. I mean, for real, they were totally out of it."

Her own portion untouched, Regina waited to eat as she listened to Emma's musings. A delicate topic, obviously, she treaded warily. "Care to elaborate?" she wondered casually.

Slurping on her juice the way she'd done since she was a child, Emma let out a loud "ahhhh" when she set her cup down, showing everyone know how refreshed she was. It was both a quirk she loved and an annoyance of Regina's. "I just meant, like, Henry's pretty much an adult… or close enough. He's not as needy as a baby; he doesn't get sick as easy. You know? If he doesn't feel good, he can tell us— not cry about it."

"Am I to assume that means you're happy with the way things are?" Regina probed discreetly.

"I mean, yeah. This," Emma motioned to the three of them around the table, "is enough. I love what we've got. Don't you?"

"Yes. Yes of course," Regina said swiftly. Acting as though a part of her heart hadn't just shattered into a million tiny pieces, she nonchalantly nibbled on her pizza. As soon as she did, though, that nausea she'd been so curious about devoured her whole; she dropped the slice of cheesy pie back onto her plate, covered her mouth with her napkin, and teleported upstairs, into the bathroom. Crumbling to her knees and hugging the porcelain commode, anything and everything that Regina had ingested throughout the day expelled from her being until she could heave no more. Ripping off a square of toilet paper, the former regal Queen dabbed the corners of her mouth, flushed the toilet, and stayed on the floor; she waited for the objects before her to stop jostling about.

Heavy clomping came from the stairwell and a perplexed Emma ran into their room. Tripping over her sneakers, she bumbled to the closed bathroom door and tried to open it, but it was locked. "Gina? What's wrong?"

Silently moaning, Regina steadied herself on the counter, over the sink. By no means did she want to see her reflection, but it still happened: she caught a glimpse of her green, sweaty features. She almost recoiled away before remembering she was staring at herself. "I'm fine," she groaned as loud as she could.

"Obviously not. Hey, open up!" Collapsing on the rug once more, Regina hovered over the bowl and emptied the remaining contents of her stomach, which weren't much. "Gina!" Emma kicked the door passionately. Her trachea seared with the acidity, but Regina still managed to stagger to her feet. She groped for the handle through half-closed eyes and when the door opened, she slumped into Emma's arms briefly. _Stay calm, Regina. Stay calm_, the brunette instructed herself. While Emma didn't want to let her go, Regina shrugged out of the blonde's embrace and blinked slowly. "Jeez, you got flu or something?"

Before she could stop herself, Regina let out a raspy, "Or something."

As the mayor melted into the sheriff's embrace, Emma half-dragged Regina to the bed and assisted her onto the mattress. She pulled back the plastered strands of brown hair that had glued themselves to the Regina's forehead and examined her lover quizzically. "Gina, I think we should you take to a doctor. You look… not so good."

"It's not something a doctor can fix, dear," Regina panted, still struggling to catch her breath. While she hadn't been given very much time to create a plan for how to tell Emma, she was sure that this wasn't the way. Had she'd been more prepared, if Regina had found out earlier, she would've done something subtle, but elegant— intimate, but coy. She never, not in a million lightyears, would have ever anticipated having such news to relay. And yet, Regina Mills found herself in a rather thorny situation.

Sensing the woman's hesitation, Emma intervened in Regina's unsaid, soaring thoughts. "You're hiding something… Regina, are you… are you sick? Like, the kind that can't be solved with magic?" Emma's voice was trembling beneath her normally rough exterior and bled with worry as she massaged Regina's arm.

"No! Gods no," the brunette pacified instantly, chastising herself for letting Emma think such a thing. Grinding her teeth together and focusing on not throwing up, Regina wiped away the tear in the corner of her eye and gave a pathetic attempt at a smile. "Emma," she clasped her hand over the blonde's quaking limb, "I'm pregnant."

A few seconds passed by before Emma yanked free of Regina's hold and jumped to her feet, fists balled tightly, ready to ram them through plaster. "What?" she asked through a clenched jaw and flaring nostrils.

"I'm pregnant," Regina repeated calmly, though on the inside, she was bracing herself for an explosion. "We're pregnant," she amended softly.

"With who's baby?" Emma demanded sharply, even more violently than she'd meant. Though, to be fair, she didn't really know what she meant right now. All that she was aware of was her knuckles blanching and her voice rising. "Who's baby?!" she grunted with glazed over eyes.

Beyond hurt, Regina was doing her damnedest to maintain a level-headed persona. While she may not have responded equally as loud, her words escaped through gritted teeth, almost a hiss. "You really have to ask?"

"Hell yeah I have to ask! It sure as shit isn't mine!"

"Let me explain—

"Don't even try and come up with a bullshit lie. Jesus Christ, who else are you sleeping with?!" The Savior was unstoppable now. Gaining speed light a freight train on unscathed tracks, Emma plowed through the mist of incredulousness and chugged along. As if it suddenly dawned on her, the blonde scoffed with a nasty sneer and glowered at Regina. "It's His, isn't it?"

"Who's?" the Queen probed innocently, which she was truly was for the first time in eons. Battling against the burning tears that pressed behind her eyes, Regina's pupils shrunk— as did the rest of her. All traces of nausea had dissipated, gone from her system. Instead of feeling as though she were about to throw up, Regina felt as if she were about to hurl a fireball at someone. "How _dare _you!" she snarled, lurching from her spot on the bed, too quick to care about the dizzying spell that was cast upon her. "First you accuse me of adultery, then you have the audacity to assume I would even _think_ about cheating on you with that man?!" In seconds, their conversation had escalated to new heights and both Emma and Regina's blood was boiling. Neither one of the women realized Henry was sitting on the steps, listening to everything they said to each other.

"Fucking A, Regina! Just tell me who you banged and I'll kill them! Say a name, and I swear to God, I'll personally drive them across the goddamned border!" Emma roared, her wisdom teeth showing. The house trembled in fear, hating the anger that radiated from its inhabitants. The building had been filled with such delight over the past few months; it hadn't been prepared to house such hostility.

Shaking her head in misery, it was then that Regina decided to end it. "Go," she whimpered through shaky breaths, one hand hiding her meltdown. "I don't know what I thought you'd say, but… but it wasn't this. Just go. Get out of here."

"No way. Not until you tell the truth. God, I should've known something was up. You were acting all weird today. What? Did you wanna tell Robing-fucking-Hood before you broke it to me? Is that it? Is that what you—"

Without letting Emma could finish her tirade— finish slinging insults at Regina— the brunette's hand flew across her lover's face and silence took the place of her speech. Emma rubbed the, now stinging, flesh beside her nose and opened and closed her jaw several times. Decreasing the wide gap between them, Regina bared her canines and her features turned to stone. "Don't you _ever_ speak to me like that again! Next time, it'll be more than just a slap," she threatened. "Now get out, before I make you."

Without packing any bags, Emma spun on her heels, marched out of their room and nearly bumped into Henry. One would have thought that upon his company, the mother would have apologized. But, in this case, it only fueled Emma towards the door. Snatching her red, leather jacket off of the hook and grabbing her keys, the sheriff slammed the barrier behind her and ran out onto the front yard. Regina watched as her other half pulled out of the driveway in the rusted yellow Bug and sped down the street; Emma never looked back in her partner's direction.

* * *

Emma Swan drove around town for several hours before hitting the Rabbit Hole. She left her car in the fire lane, cut off the ignition, and stomped into the neon-lit, classic rock-filled bar. While others were usually coaxed inside by the sign in the window, Emma didn't need any assistance. She all but kicked down the front door as she stumbled up to a stool at the counter, her adrenaline still pumping almost three hours later. She hadn't bothered to stop anywhere, not even at her parents'— correction, especially not at her parents'. The last thing she needed was a lecture or some bizarre sigh of relief from Snow. Emma just wanted space to drink and to think.

"Whiskey," she grumbled as she slammed the wooden surface. The bartender complied within the time frame of Emma's patience, who guzzled down the substance as if it were Kool-Aid. Served in a shot glass, she swallowed it all in one gulp and let it crash onto the bar. "Again," she commanded. Without judgement, the man with the black apron refilled her container and returned to his other charges. When he wasn't looking, Emma swiped the bottle and started drinking from it; that familiar sensation scorched her throat as the alcohol drowned her tastebuds and her sorrows.

She screwed up. That much was apparent with or without being intoxicated. Emma fucked up big time. The moment she pressed the gas pedal, she wanted to turn back. It wasn't until she'd left the mansion that she was rerouted back into reality and the venom that she'd sprayed bit her in the ass. Every single syllable that she'd uttered rang through her ears as she cringed at her own claims. Regina was pregnant; that wasn't hard to understand. But, how? How did that happen? Emma may not have been in health class, but she knew how babies were made. It couldn't be hers seeing as she didn't have the right… parts. So, what the hell was going on? She didn't really think Regina would cheat on her. She just said that out of her own rage. Emma didn't mean it— any of it. It was all just… it was just a mistake, a terrible, awful, unforgivable mistake.

This is what she always did. When things got too hard or when they didn't work out, Emma ran. She ran as fast as she could and left that part of her life behind her, only to start the entire process over again. This is why she never let herself get attached to anyone. Everyone she cared about and loved left her in one way or another. The only way to prevent that kind of agony was to run. That's all Emma had ever known— that's what she thought life was about. And, just when she thought she'd finally found her home, that age-old instinct to flee kicked in. It was as innate as her love for Henry, which right now, was probably one of the only things preventing her from leaving right away. That, and of course, her love for Regina.

* * *

"Mom?" Henry stood in the hallway, afraid to move any closer. After hearing the entire thing, witnessing the entire debacle, he'd given his mom some time to herself before approaching her. From the moment Regina teleported at the dinner table, he knew something wasn't right. He followed his instincts, and his mothers, and was rewarded with one of the biggest shocks of his life. Everything his parents said to one another— everything Emma said— was etched into his memory, branded there like a metal insignia. None of Emma's claims or statements made any sense to him, and to be honest, he didn't agree with them either. But, she'd stormed out before he could confront her.

Drying her cheeks with a tissue, Regina slid out of bed, stepped out into the light, planted herself in front of Henry. He could tell she'd been crying; her eyes were pink and puffy, her nose was running— which she absolutely detested on other people. And, when she talked, she sounded as if she needed some water. "Is everything all right?"

"Uh… that's what I wanted to ask you," Henry mumbled. "I, um, I heard… everything."

More embarrassed than disappointed, Regina wagged a finger at the teenager. "Henry, what have I told you about listening to other people's conversations? It's disrespectful and an invasion of privacy."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, though he wasn't really. "Is… is it true? You're…?"

Pulling her shirt down to flatten the wrinkles, Regina flipped her shoulder-length mane seamlessly. "This is a discussion the three of us should have together," she said simply.

"Mom, I heard you guys, ok?" Henry said seriously. "I'm not stupid." He had to ask. "You didn't really, you know, cheat on—"

"Henry, dear, I know how intelligent you are, and I know you must have a lot of questions, but I need you to listen to what I'm about to say," Regina began purposefully, though on the inside, she was completely broken. "That is _not_ something that you are ever allowed to ask me or Emma. Second, I am not going to talk about this without your mother present, are we clear?"

Henry nodded solemnly. "You think she'll come back? After all that?" he inquired with a frown, his voice cracking on the last word. His Adam's apple bounced as he spoke like a yo-yo and Regina was just noticing how much taller he'd gotten in the last week.

Her knees twitching involuntarily, the mayor mentally cursed Emma— wherever she was. The wounds from their recent fight were still wide open and she had no desire to relive any of it, if she could help it. "Of course she will. If she wants to fix this, she will," Regina reasoned, pacifying both herself and the young man before her. She tenderly touched Henry's arm, mostly to ensure that she didn't faint again. "This is her home. She has to come back."


	5. Love is a Challenge

"Ginaaaa!" Emma slurred through their large nest, tripping over her own un-laced boots. It was two o'clock in the morning, everyone else in town was asleep, including Regina and Henry. The mother and son had waited until one before succumbing the heaviness of their eyelids. Emma had remained at the bar and got roaring drunk. She wreaked of alcohol, her vision was distorted— as well as her judgment— and her capacity to think clearly had been severely diminished. And indeed, she was stupid enough to drive home. It was her great fortune that she arrived to her abode in one piece without any injuries. "Reginaaaa!" the Savior shouted again, flipping on all of the lights.

She made a fruitless attempt at taking on the stairs and was rewarded with a mouthful of wood as she tumbled to the ground. She thrust her hands out a second too late and busted her lower lip; the warm, salty substance caused her to cringe. As Emma grappled with the floor and reached for the railing, the rest of the house lit up like a Christmas tree. Doors yanked open and hurried feet scurried towards her.

"Emma!" Regina gasped, trampling down to the fallen warrior. In her silk bathrobe and violet slippers, the mayor recoiled from the pungent odor of the booze on Emma's breath, the same scent that radiated from the blonde's entire being. Henry intervened and fulfilled Regina's role, lifting Emma to her feet and giving her someone to lean on.

"Crap," he quacked. The combination of dead weight, cold perspiration, and pure intoxication weighed down heavily on the young man. It wasn't that he couldn't hold Emma. It was more than that. He hadn't seen his mother like this in the entire time that he knew her. This was a side of the valiant woman he hadn't anticipated on ever witnessing. Something between disappointment and frustration simmered within him as he carried Emma to her room.

Regina trailed closely behind, one hand on her abdomen, the other on her chest. Emma's feet dragged over the floor, almost as if she weren't even trying to walk. The brunette had prepared an entire rebuttal to Emma's case while she was away; she planned on informing the sheriff that she'd be sleeping the couch that evening. She wasn't going to show any concern for Emma's well-being or for her emotions— not after everything Emma had said. Regina wanted so badly to be the Evil Queen again, to punish someone for the pain that had been inflicted on her. The very instant she saw Emma, plastered and bleeding, she'd let go of her resentment… for now.

Rearranging the pillows and pulling back the blankets, Regina pat Emma's side of the bed and signaled for Henry to lay the woman down. The nearly unconscious blonde was murmuring something to herself in a language that loosely resembled baby babble. Her lips moved slowly and lazily, a line of drool trickled down the corner of her mouth, and her eyes fluttered as she resisted the urge to heave onto the floor. Henry swiped a kleenex from the bed-stand and mindfully wiped away the stream of blood that engulfed Emma's bottom rim. At the sheriff's discoloration, Regina contained her own nausea and set a trash bin on the ground beside the loopy individual— she prayed that it would not need to be emptied.

"Henry, dear, go back to sleep. I can handle this from here," Regina said demurely. She disappeared into their bathroom and ran a cloth under cool water, something her inner/former villain fought against. When she returned, she sat at Emma's bedside and laid the towel on her forehead like she'd done with Henry when he was sick. Speaking of, their son hadn't budged an inch. He remained firmly planted with his arms at his sides, a disapproving scowl aimed for Emma. "It's all right," Regina soothed to the both of them. "Go back to bed, Henry."

"Fine." Pouting, the boy begrudgingly sauntered out of his parents' den and shuffled into his own. Instead of closing the door, however, he kept it open so that he could hear his moms talking. This didn't count as eavesdropping. This was assurance.

Although her body was at war with itself, Emma managed to peer up at Regina through watery eyes— tears of shame and tears and exhaustion. She grabbed for Regina's hand, the one that was wiping her face with the calming washcloth, and Regina paused with taught features. Utilizing every bit of strength she had, and tapping into the rest of the brainpower she could muster, Emma spoke through hoarse breaths. "I'm sorry," she coughed, choking on her own remorse.

"Shhh," Regina whispered. Through the darkness of their bedroom, her contorted face was invisible to Emma. Regina's wrinkled brow and tight jaw said something different than what Regina had actually expressed. She felt Emma relax beneath her touch, and soon, the sheriff was out like a light. Her chest rose and fell evenly as her system finally shut down for the night. "What did you do to yourself?" Regina posed, though she wasn't expecting an answer. She continued applying the moist linen until she could no longer sit up. Sending the house right back into a cloud of blackness, she maneuvered her way through the room and curled under the blankets.

Usually, Regina and Emma cuddled together before drifting off into dreamworld. Emma would drape her arm over Regina's midsection, nestle her nose against the brunette's neck, and wait until she felt Regina's heartbeat against her own chest. The Queen fit perfectly into the Savior's embrace, not a finger out of place. Eventually, their heartbeats became one and the women were lost in their own minds.

Tonight, however, there was no touching or snuggling. There were no words of affection shared, no kisses exchanged, and no laughter rippling through the atmosphere. It didn't even feel like their bed anymore, not like this. Regina didn't have it in her to make Emma sleep on the couch, and she sure as hell wasn't up to spending the next five hours on the stiff, fading piece of furniture— especially not now that she was pregnant. Tonight was not just a loveless night; it was night lost.

* * *

"Shit." That was the first word that slipped from Emma when she woke up. Well, more like, rolled onto her side and got assaulted by the vengeful sunlight. Whether her sentiments were related to way in which she was awoken, or the recollection of the night before, would remain unknown to the blonde until moments later.

Barely functioning, Emma wrestled with the thin sheets and pushed aside the feather-filled comforter; her bottom lip already scabbed over and bruising. Nothing stood still in front of her eyes, but that was the price she had to pay for such a self-destructive evening. Emma could hear everything; every speck of dust that landed on a surface, every voice on the streets, and every car that rolled down the road. She could've sworn that she even heard the customers in Granny's Diner several blocks away.

Regina was absent from her side of the bed— at work, like usual, tirelessly plowing through the sea of requests and applications; all the while, thinking about Emma. Henry was sitting in his math class with his notebook and pencils on his desk, listening to an explanation of algebraic equations. It would seem that both of the brown-haired folks who held Emma's heart were out tending to their own business.

Although it was well-past nine o'clock, Emma forced herself to get dressed and appear at the station. She never took sick days, not if she could help it. So, she moped through the monstrous hangover and willed herself to go on. On her way down Main Street, Emma contemplated popping in at the Mayor's Office, but soon thought better of it when the rest their argument came flooding back into her conscience. Instead, she continued to her own base of operations, right into graces of her chipper father.

"Emma!" he greeted promptly with a spirited wave, rather loudly. The sheriff withered into her invisible shell and did everything but physically cover her ears. With her sunglasses still on, she slowly made her way to her desk and propped her feet onto the table, totally unaware that she had two different boots on: one was medium brown and the other was dark brown. She'd been so disoriented before, she didn't even notice what she was putting on. Standing up straight, in matching shoes, David meandered to his daughter's depot and leaned against the drawers. It didn't take an Emma-Expert to know that she wasn't all right. "What happened?" he asked gingerly.

Wanting to ignore his question, Emma knew she couldn't avoid it, or her parents, for very long. And, without giving it too much thought, she let it slip through her unemotional facade. "Regina's pregnant." Saying it out loud finally made it seem real.

David's scar became even more pronounced as the rest of his mouth turned upside down. "What?"

"She's pregnant," Emma repeated impatiently. "And I totally screwed up."

"Wait, hold on. Regina's pregnant? As in, she's having a baby?" David was flustered, that much was clear. "Am I missing something here?"

The blonde shrugged lifelessly and callously. "I dunno." Removing her shades, Emma rubbed her face none-too-gently and folded her arms over her chest; the metal cage at the other end of the room was suddenly the most interesting artifact. "She hasn't called you, has she?"

"No," David replied in an empty tone.

Shaking her head, the Savior made eye-contact with her dad, the kind that raised the hairs and sent goose bumps down his neck. Her piercing green spheres never failed to touch his inner-being. "I really screwed up."

* * *

Regina went about her day like a robot. She showed absolutely no signs of emotion, she spoke to no one other than Jane, and she stayed inside of her office, cooped up like a bird in a cage. Although her post was enormous, Regina felt as if she were in a cubicle with no room to move. Everything suddenly felt too small and too close. The letters on the papers flew off of the pages and floated before her, teasing her. The trees painted on the walls looked as if they were swaying with the breeze. And Regina could have sworn she heard music close by. She just couldn't focus.

She kept thinking of Emma and the blonde's horrendous reaction. What was Regina expecting, though? Did she honestly believe the Savior would jump for joy? For a baby she had no clue how it was conceived? That they'd all skip merrily down the path and Regina would finally get her happy ending? The brunette cursed herself for being so ignorant to life's true let-downs. Emma wouldn't want a kid— she even said she didn't want a baby. They'd been together for mere months. Sure, they'd already moved in and exchanged the "L Word," but a new child was something completely different. It was a variable no one knew how to compute. But it was one Regina yearned for— one she was willing to fight for. The Queen wanted this baby. She wanted it more than she'd ever wanted anything in years, except for Henry and Emma. And, if Emma decided not to be apart of this decision, then so be it. Regina would have the child on her own. That was it. Her mind was made up.

Eventually, she gave up on all of the work and needy appeals from constantly-nagging citizens. Sometimes it didn't feel so different from being back in the Enchanted Forest; the only real difference was, in this world, things cost more than a sheep and a bag of Fairy dust. Regina let the pen drop from her grip, she locked away the sensitive files, and she turned off all of the lights. Mentally finished with the rest of her afternoon, the mayor ducked out of the office, tossed her bag into the passenger seat of her car and zoomed away, off towards her home— the home she shared with Emma Swan.

* * *

All in all, Emma spent three hours at the station before giving up and organizing a plan for the evening. Through little discussion with her father, she knew what she had to do in order to fix things. Or, at least, to take the first step on the road to redemption. She'd said a lot that she deeply regretted and she was going to do everything she could to make it up to Regina. Everything and anything.

First thing was first: Emma bought a fresh bouquet of Tiger Lilies— Regina's favorite. The fiery orange always brought a smile to the woman's face. Emma didn't know why, exactly. Whatever the reason, Regina lit up whenever she saw them, as if they put her under some sort of a spell.

Next, Emma stopped at the grocery store and picked a few essentials. She filled her hand basket with the ingredients she had memorized by heart, plus a few extras. While in the establishment, she found herself gravitating towards the clothing rack… the baby clothing rack. Miniature overalls and denim sun hats, as well as cotton booties and velcro bibs all intimidated Emma. The only times she'd ever been near this stuff were with Lance. She didn't know anything about diaper sizes or scented and non-scented baby wipes. It was all completely foreign territory.

Not wanting to dwell too long on the future, Emma finished her shopping trip and ended up with six plastic bags, which she carried into the house all together. It was hot outside, she didn't feel like making another round up and down the walkway. Besides, she wanted to get everything inside and ready before Regina got home.

Having asked David to pick Henry up from school, Emma had exactly two hours before Regina got off work. That should have been more than enough time to get it all ready. However, as usual, fate had different plans. Just as she'd begun to unpack the produce and cardboard boxes, Emma heard the smooth hum of the Mercedes pulling into the driveway. Regina was there. It was one thirty in the afternoon and Regina was already off from work.

"Shit," Emma hissed, arms full of ripe fruit. She hadn't even gotten to put the flowers in a vase. With the refrigerator door wide open, Emma froze as Regina entered the mansion, her heels punching the wooden floors. The sheriff made haste and gathered up the rest of the food, quickly packing it onto the correct shelves and into the proper cabinets. She'd wanted it to be a surprise.

"Emma?" Regina called out as she dropped her briefcase onto the couch. Her feet sore, she slipped out of her black pumps and shrunk several inches. A rustling from the kitchen caught her attention and in seconds, Regina was across from the woman who had previously, partially broken her heart. "We need to talk," she said curtly, never bothering to absorb Emma's frantic expression.

"I know," the blonde agreed, practically sitting on the marble countertop. One hand behind her back, she was hiding the lively flowers from view. "Regina, I'm—"

"I can understand a lot of things, Emma. More than people may realize. I am not completely oblivious the pain of others and I hope that that much has become clear these past few weeks," Regina said, cutting Emma off before she could apologize. "No matter what I've done, the one thing I know most about is getting hurt by the ones you love." She was just getting started. Her heart was jumping up and down inside of her chest, her stomach twisting into knots. Very slowly, she moved closer to Emma, step-by-step, all the while, keeping clear, bold eye-contact. "I'm sorry that this isn't what you'd expected and I'm sorry that you may not want this. However, let me promise you one thing: I will _never_ again be the target of your poisonous delusions. I don't care what else happens, I don't care what you choose to do, but last night will never be repeated. Do you understand me?"

Her mouth agape, Emma nodded somberly. "Yeah, but Regina, look—"

"Whatever path you wish to undertake is up to you. Don't do anything out of obligation or fear, Emma. And don't do anything that you'll regret," the brunette continued. "As new as this is to you, it's even newer to me. It's not as if I've done this before."

"I know, that's why—"

"Please," Regina whimpered, struggling to keep her voice from cracking, "just say what it is that you have to say and that will be it, all right? We'll figure out some sort of arrangement, but we won't say anything to Henry just yet." She wrung her hands like a wet towel. "He's finally happy again."

"Regina," Emma said with gusto. Sliding off of the high surface, she landed like a feline, her spine curved but the rest of her body steady. She rose gracefully, gaining height, until she was eye-level with Regina. Without startling her, Emma revealed the gift she'd been gripping onto so tightly her knuckles had blanched.

With tears already stinging behind her eyes, Regina refused to accept the bouquet. "You don't truly suppose these make up for everything, do you?"

"No," Emma said honestly. "I don't. They're not for you," she commented. "They're for… they're for the baby." It was only then that Regina relented and curled her fingers around the stems; she wasn't sure if it was her hormones or what, but the tears escaped and she couldn't stop them. She fell into Emma's arms, unashamed, but indignant at the same time. Mindful not to jostle her too much, Emma half-carried Regina to a chair at the island and sat next to her. She reached for a couple of napkins and held them out, unaccustomed to seeing Regina so emotional. "Look," Emma sighed, having waited for the storm to pass. "Gina, I'm sorry. I said some shitty things and I feel awful about that. I hate that I hurt you and I swear to God, I'm gonna do whatever it takes to show you how sorry I am. Whatever's going on, you didn't deserve any of that." Sniffling feebly, Regina dapped away the moisture on her cheeks and cleared her throat. The lovely Tiger Lilies were all that she had the capacity to concentrate on. Emma moved to hold Regina's hand, and to her own surprise, the brunette didn't pull away as she'd been anticipating. "I love you, Regina, no matter what."

"Love can only endure so much," the Queen said morosely.

"Hey," Emma semi-growled. She tightened her hold on her partner and brushed the fallen locks out of her face. "I will never stop loving you. That's a promise."

"Until I get pregnant and you call me an adulterer," Regina retorted.

Emma let go of her lover's hand, but more out of humiliation than anything else. "I didn't mean it. I wasn't… it's just… Gina, I've never done this before. I've never had a relationship where there wasn't any law-breaking or heavy-drinking. Every other person I've been with ends up screwing me over… which is what I did to you," she realized.

"That's not an excuse, Emma. You've never done this before? _I've_ never done this before!" Regina yipped. "The last man I loved was killed by my mother. And the last person that I dated was a gentleman, but he wasn't who I was meant to be with."

"But that's just it!" said Emma, hoping that Regina would see the point she'd just proven. "We were meant to be together! These— these are just hiccups, Gina. They're tests to show how much we can survive!"

"Gods, do you hear yourself?" Regina wasn't convinced of the Savior's claims, but instead, she was appalled. "Hiccups? Tests? A baby is not a hiccup, Emma! It's a human being. It's a tiny human being who needs care and attention and love! Which you wouldn't know much about considering you put your only son up for adoption." It was Regina's turn to stick her foot in her mouth, and it was Regina's turn to feel guilty. As harsh as that was, though, Emma didn't even flinch.

Slipping off of the stool and onto her feet, the Savior peered down at the Queen. "I wasn't there for Henry the way I should have been. I wasn't ready to be a mother. But you were. Jesus Christ, Regina. I know that I don't know what to do. I know that there's a lot I gotta learn. And I know how scared you are right now; I've been there." Regina couldn't tell if she was hallucinating or if Emma really was getting misty. Without warning, the blonde dropped to her knees until she was staring right at Regina's abdomen. "I don't care how this baby was made. If you say that it's mine, then it's mine, and I'll love it like crazy." Tilting her head back to look up at the mayor, the sheriff cupped Regina's cheek tenderly and Regina reveled in the moment; she let Emma's soft fingers stroke the edge of her jaw because in that moment, there was nowhere else Regina would rather be. "Please," Emma pleaded, "let me be here for you… for both of you."

* * *

**A/N** - Hiya! Hope you enjoyed that update! Emma's got some intense work to do, huh? As I mentioned in "Universe & U," I have NOT forgotten about these stories. It's been a ridiculously busy two weeks. Last night, I graduated from my high school. I've got some major life events coming up this next week, but hopefully I'll be able to get some writing done. We'll see how things go. Until then, enjoy whatever comes next! I've got a bit of a surprise for you all- hopefully to be shared soon.


	6. Mother Dearest

Emma slept on the couch that night. She never got to make her apologetic lasagna dinner with home-baked brownies for desert. It wasn't so much that Regina was still hurt, though she was, but more so that she needed some space to consider things. Now that Emma wasn't drunk, there was no reason that she couldn't spend her trip to dreamland on the sofa. When Henry asked why his mothers weren't sharing a room, Emma countered with her own inquiry. "How much do you know?"

"How much _should_ I know?" Henry evaded, rather sloppily. The two of them were in the upstairs hallway. Emma had a pillow and blanket tucked under her armpit and Henry was snacking on a cookie from the glass jar. He knew full-well that any food was to be eaten at the table. He got lucky that night.

Stealing his niblet and finishing it herself, the blonde escaped the possibly-dangerous conversation and skipped down the stairs. She tossed a simple, "Don't worry about it," over her shoulder before sulking away to the living room.

Left on his own, Henry approached his other mom with much more apprehension than he'd have liked. He knocked on the door and waited politely until he heard a soft "come in" before welcoming himself into his parents' bedroom. Regina was under the blankets in her usual silk nightclothes, glasses on the bridge of her nose and some magazine in her lap— Henry couldn't read the title. The light on the bed stand was on, and somehow, it was enough to fill the entire space. The beams bounced off of the ceiling and the white-painted walls and spread out like a disco ball, but less choppy and more alluring. "Hey, mom can I… can I ask you something?" Henry stood about awkwardly with his hands folded behind his back. His pajamas looked ridiculous on him; he grew about three inches every night.

Regina removed her reading spectacles and tossed aside her brochure, debating on whether or not she wanted to hear Henry's question. At his curious grimace, though, she felt compelled to listen. "I suppose so. Here, come, sit," she pat the empty space beside her— the space Emma normally occupied.

Henry half-crawled, half-jumped onto the mattress like a toddler. Regina had a flash of years ago when he was still so young and would gleefully bounce on the bed and nestle himself beside her. Older Henry, though, was not so carefree anymore and he tried not to joggle the bunk too much. If what he'd overheard was true, he was going to be extra prudent around his mom. Playing with the back cover of Regina's magazine, Henry spoke as if he'd lost all confidence in himself. "Are you and Ma… are you ok?"

Crossing her legs under the covers— even in the evening she was a proper gentlewoman— Regina unconsciously fiddled with her glasses. "Emma and I will be fine, dear. There's a lot going on right now; we just need to find a way to get through it is all."

"You say it like it's easy," Henry pointed out. He wasn't challenging Regina. He was merely stating his opinion. "Can I tell you something?"

"Henry, you know the rules: no lying and no hiding things from either Emma or myself," Regina reminded firmly.

"It's not a lie and it's nothing Ma doesn't already know," the young man remarked. "It's about New York." At the very mention of the place, Regina's heart fluttered. All of the events that had transpired in New York were a result of a choice she'd made. At the time, it seemed like the honorable thing to do— the perfect way to prove that she really wasn't a villain. But, when Emma returned with Henry, it had become something that only strengthened their bond and stuck a wedge between Regina and her son. Even now, with their memories restored, they shared an entire year in a very different place. That was something Regina would never be able to understand. Shifting slightly, Henry repositioned himself so that he was square with Regina. "Remember that guy I told you about? Walsh?"

"Yes. As I recall, he'd… proposed to Emma? And after she refused, he turned into flying monkey."

"Yeah, him," Henry nodded. "See, Ma was happy with the guy. For a while, they went out, like, four times a week. He bought her flowers and took her on fancy dates. It's weird… he treated her like a princess."

Somewhat annoyed with Henry's relaying of Emma's previous elation, Regina fought to keep her irritation invisible. "That's very nice, dear, but I don't think I'm understanding. Why are you telling me this?"

"Because," her oldest huffed as he got onto his knees. "Ma may have been happy with Walsh, but it wasn't real. Even without her memories, I think she only liked him because he seemed normal and that's what she always wanted. And then when we came home and you guys got together, Ma was happy again… but this time it was real, it didn't fade away like it did with him. She didn't love Walsh, Mom. But she does love you." When he finished, Henry kissed the top of Regina's head and flung himself onto his bare feet; it seemed as if he'd inherited Emma's cat-like landing skills. He would have been content to leave his mother puzzled at his early wisdom, but another thought stopped him mid-way through the doorframe. "Mom?" Regina turned to look at Henry, speechless from his insights. "If it's a girl, promise not to name her Zelena. And if it's a boy, Peter or Pan is kinda weird. 'Night."

* * *

Neither Emma or Regina got a full night's rest. The both of them were too busy tossing and turning, fluffing their pillows, and kicking off the sheets. One wasn't aware of the other's difficulties, but it was as if the universe was further proving their connection. It wasn't just because the couch was lumpy or because their room was too quiet without Emma snoring; the women just couldn't sleep. Emma kept weighing the oath she'd made to Regina, while Regina couldn't get Henry's meaningful observations out of her mind. He was getting too old too soon, dammitt. It was a big deal when your 12 year-old child sees more sense than you do. Regina wasn't sure what that meant for her as a mother.

When morning broke, Emma and Regina were already awake. The Savior sat up on the uneven cushions and dropped her face into her hands. Exhausted was an understatement. Regina, though, was more than just tired. She was nauseous. The moment she got into an upright position, she flew into the bathroom and let nature take its course. It wasn't a pretty sight, but there was nothing she could do about it.

Emma had cautiously shuffled into their room to get a change of clothes when she noted Regina's absence and their washroom door closed. In the day and a half she had of processing, Emma had also started to relive her own pregnancy symptoms. Morning sickness had been the worst part, by far. Luckily, with Henry, Emma's only lasted until week 13. It was something she had hoped would stay in the past, but life seemed to have other plans— as per the norm in this household.

As if she'd traded places with the Flash, Emma was out of her pajamas and into her day-clothes in the blink of an eye. Her yellow tee-shirt and jeans with a hole ripped in the right knee were topped off with her favorite pair of black boots, which were matching today. She collected a hair tie from the dresser and pulled her impressive mane back into a pony tail; her natural curls seemed to be budding with the turn of the season. At Regina's woeful heaving from the other room, Emma leaned against the wall and spoke through the solid barrier that divided them. "Gina, can I get you something?" From the inside, Regina's mouth was too dry for her to give a response. "Crackers? Ginger Ale?" Emma took Regina's silence as a "go away," never for a moment thinking that Regina was physically incapable of giving an answer. "If you need anything, call me. I'll be at the station."

* * *

David was already at his post, though with nothing to do. As the deputy of the town, he played a significant role in the law enforcement of Storybrooke. However, there was only so much enforcing that could be done when there were no actual crimes. No one had been foolish enough to even think about doing anything illegal. And, no one even wanted to. After witnessing the epic battle between Regina and Zelena, the residents were reminded of the Queen's wrath, should she decide to impose it. The people of Storybrooke were smarter than that. No, there was very little for David to actually do. Except, of course, fret about his daughter. What Emma had told him the morning previous was a shock, to say the least.

As soon as he heard footsteps, he put on his best indifferent expression. Instead of the frown he'd been wearing since arriving to work, he put on a subtle smile. It wasn't too broad or too pitying, but understanding and paternal. His blue eyes sparkled unintentionally, which could have been attributed to the news that he was about to be a grandfather once more. What had the potential to be a traffic-stopping, rage-inducing, sword-welcoming headline was nothing short of amazing in David's perspective.

Emma, though, looked less than enthusiastic on her way to her desk. She lacked her usual cup of coffee and bear claw, but that was the least of her worries. The sheer glint of trust in David's face made her want to turn back and go home. Try as he might, it was all too apparent how eager he was in this entire predicament. "Please tell me that Mary Margaret doesn't know," Emma begged as she sat on the edge of her table.

David drifted towards the woman with his holsters fastened and his thumbs in his belt loops; he loosely resembled a cowboy. All that he was missing was a straw hat and spurs on his shoes. "It's your announcement to make, Emma. I wouldn't spoil something like that."

"Even if it means her being pissed at you for not telling her?"

"Even if it means I spend at night at Granny's for not telling her," David affirmed. "I'm on your side, Emma. Snow will be able to cope." Taking the sheriff's chair while she occupied her desk, David surveyed his daughter. She didn't seem as despondent as she had before, but she still didn't seem like herself. There was no glow, no infectious energy or charisma. Emma was just struggling to stay afloat and he had no idea how to help her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Juggling the stress ball she kept by her pencils— at Regina's request— the blonde contemplated whether or not to chuck it through the mini jail they had. Hell, she contemplated whether or not to tear apart her entire desk. "You know that night, with Zelena and Regina… how I—"

"Almost got yourself killed?" David semi-snarled.

"Yeah. Well, here's the thing… when I fell, I didn't, like, trip or whatever. Zelena kinda… shoved a sleeping curse down my throat," Emma blurted out.

"She what?!" David roared as he flew out of his chair and reached for his gun instinctively. "Emma?!"

"I know, I know, I should've told you sooner. But, hold on, ok? There's more…" Now ripping the corners off of a sheet of scratch paper, Emma was more reluctant to look at her father than ever. She wasn't sure she'd be able to handle what she saw in his face. "Regina was the one who woke me up. She used True Love's Kiss."

As he listened to the last part, David stumbled backwards and put his hands on top of his freshly-shaved head. His eyes shut tight and his knees wobbling slightly, the Prince nearly collapsed. "Does Henry know?" was all that he could muster at the moment.

"He's the only one," Emma said. Pushing herself up until she was just inches away from the deputy, the blonde folded her arms over her chest as a response to David's apparent breakdown. "Dad?" she murmured, gauging his emotional stability.

After a few seconds, the man regained full balance and cognitive ability. He stopped chewing on his bottom lip and gazed down at his only daughter. The raw vulnerability that she was exposing was enough to melt his heart, if it hadn't already. Her sad, emerald spheres and her pinched brow told him more than she ever could. It wasn't as though he were angry or disappointed in Emma, but he couldn't help to feel betrayed that she hadn't come to him sooner. He tried to imagine how heavy the secret must've been weighing down on her, and he shuddered just thinking about it. Clamping his open hands onto her shoulders, David hadn't looked so earnest in months. "I stand by what I said before, Emma. Whatever happens, I could never stop loving you."

"Not even loving the Evil Queen?" Emma asked in a feeble tone, her chin suddenly exploding with dimples.

Hugging her shoulders with his long arm, Charming inhaled deeply. "_Especially_ loving the Evil Queen."

* * *

Regina was sick all morning long. From waking up to getting ready to leave, the mayor had never felt so frail in her entire life. She could hardly walk in a straight line, let alone stand for more than 10 seconds without having to grab for something. And, while she was determined to make it to the office, her body had a different idea. Instead of going about her day as usual, Regina Mills ended up laying on the bathroom floor, turning a metal handle every two minutes.

It was around noon when her phone rang— the one that was on her night stand, all the way in their bedroom. On a normal day, it was an easy journey to make, just a few feet away. But today, her night stand felt like it was in another continent, one that was slowly floating father and farther into oblivion. The woman practically crawled on all fours just to answer the plastic device, which she got on the very last ringtone.

"This is Mayor Mills," she greeted in a gravely voice.

"Regina?" a wispy individual asked tentatively.

As if she couldn't feel any worse, Regina moaned silently to herself in agony and focused on sounding… not sick. "Snow," she said curtly. "This is certainly unexpected." _Good, yes, keep talking. It calms the stomach,_ she instructed. Her pajama shirt stuck to her flesh with the sweat she'd been emitting for hours and her usually-voluminous brown hair was clumping together in an unsightly fashion. Even if she could maintain her equilibrium long enough, she had no desire to see her reflection in the mirror.

There was a pause on the other end and Regina assumed the Princess had hung up like a teenager. But then, there was breathing. And soon, Snow White wasn't so scared. "Is there a chance we could talk? Just the two of us?"

Glaring at a nonexistent target on the wall, Regina all but burned a hole through the plaster. If she'd really wanted to, she could have. Or, on second thought, maybe not: she'd forgotten her powers were acting up. Wishing that she'd just let the phone go to voicemail, the Queen parted her lips and replied rather diplomatically. "Of course. Somewhere private would be best. You're welcome to come over here in an hour." It seemed like the right amount of time to get cleaned up and prepare herself for guests. Regina didn't know very much about pregnancy, but she knew a lot about willpower. Surely she'd be able to survive a short visit without throwing up on Snow.

"Great," Mary Margaret said. She sounded as if she'd just been granted her first phone call in a prison. "I'll see you then."

"Yes," Regina said shortly. "Goodbye." Before Snow could say anything else, Regina hung up and dropped her cell onto the floor as she raced back to the bathroom— back to the shag carpet on the pristine tiles. Hugging the toilet for dear life, she had exactly 58 minutes before Snow White came skipping up to her doorstep. And Regina was nowhere near ready.

* * *

One shower and two bottles of mouthwash later, Regina was dressed in her trademark power suit. While her clothes still fit her perfectly, she was overwhelmed by a feeling of claustrophobia. She couldn't move as easily in her polyester skirt and slim button-down shirt, which was only worsened by her continuous river of sweat down her spine. To make matters even worse, she couldn't find a pair of heels that she could stand comfortably in. Every part of her outfit, though chic and elegant, made her feel awkward and uncoordinated. Even listening to her favorite Brahms record couldn't assuage her jitters.

In an effort to come across as casual and aloof as possible, Regina waited in the den with her back to the window and her nose in a book she'd read three times. The last thing she wanted to do was show any signs of anxiety around Snow. So, she channeled Emma and sat on the couch and leaned back against the cushions at an angle; she shed her pretentious persona and assumed one similar to her lover's: cool and in-the-moment.

Regina had just gotten to the fifth page when the doorbell echoed through the mansion. Instead of rushing to let Snow inside, the mayor swaggered to down the front hall, completely aware of her surroundings, and put on a docile expression. When it came to her relationship with the Princess, the Queen had never been one to lie nor hold back the truth. There was no reason to put on a show or act as if they were the best of friends. Regina was a firm believer in reality, while Snow had always had an overactive imagination. Finding middle ground had been 28 years in the making.

Although she wasn't exactly thrilled to the see the woman, Regina was suddenly flustered when she saw Miss. Blanchard on her front porch, rocking back and forth on her heels, having just dropped her son off with Red. "Snow," the older woman acknowledged, somewhat amazed that she was actually there.

With her feet together and her knees locked, the pixie-haired royal played with the hem of her sleeves. As if she'd lost even more weight, the shadows were actually visible beneath her thin cheek bones and her shirt engulfed her small frame like a shower curtain. Shifting uncomfortably, she nodded genially to her former adversary. "Regina."

"Please, come in," the brunette attended courteously. She extended her arm and stepped away from the opening and watched as Snow took tiny steps into the rotunda. It had been months since they'd been in Regina's home together— Cora had possessed Snow the last time. But, in all fairness, the night had ended with Regina and Snow coming to an accord of sorts. Her stomach gurgling softly, the former sorcerer steadied herself on the banister.

"How's Emma?" was the first thing Snow asked. With a considerable amount of distance between herself and Regina, it almost felt like nothing had changed— as if Snow and Regina were in the midst of yet another quarrel, the Princess asking the Queen to surrender so that they could move on. It was as though every bit of good Regina had done in the past two years had been erased from Snow's viewpoint, all because she'd fallen in love in Emma.

"She's all right. I haven't tried to kill her yet, if that's what you want to know," Regina said. Although she sounded offhanded about the matter, she was quite serious. "She misses you," she added, an attempt to make up for her previous statement.

Snow's eyes began to water and Regina braced herself for Niagara Falls. "She does?" Mary Margaret choked as she stopped fussing with her sleeves.

"Why wouldn't she?"

Biting her lower lip— a family trait— Snow looked up at the ceiling in an effort to make the tears go away. She lifted her shoulders and dropped them lifelessly, shaking her head exactly once. "I've been awful to her. I— I've been awful to both of you."

"It's understandable," Regina dismissed, biting back the queasiness that taunted her, daring to expose her.

"No, it's not. There's no excuse for my behavior. Whatever happens, I'm her mother. I'm supposed to be there for her and… I let her down."

Too afraid to move closer out of fear of triggering another episode, Regina was as frozen as a statue. She could see that Snow could use comforting of some sort, but that just wasn't a possibility right now. Regina cleared her throat and in the most amiable of tones— to mask her twinge— asked, "Snow, is there something specific you wanted to discuss?"

Blotching her eyes and sniffling like a child, Snow nodded and without missing a beat, she said, "Explain it to me."

As if there was an audience in the room and she was seeking clarification, Regina glanced back and forth. "I'm sorry? Explain what?"

Having gained a second wind, and remembering the real reason for their meeting, Snow composed herself, puffed out her chest, and jutted her chin. She was in Mom Mode. "Why Emma? Why my daughter?" Her voice was gradually rising in volume and thickening with authority, the same authority Bandit Snow used to have. It'd been some years since she'd tapped into her former self, the one that had no fear and no reservations. If there was ever a time to fall back into that role, it was now.

With one hand over her abdomen, Regina concentrated on not seeing two Snows. Her self-control was fading and she was starting to surrender to her body's needs. Yet, this was a situation she couldn't easily escape. "I'm afraid I don't understand—"

"I know you're a private person, Regina, but I deserve to know why you chose Emma. I mean, you had someone, she had someone, you were both happy. Robin Hood was your chance at a happy ending, the one you cursed an entire kingdom to get. Hook was Emma's. I don't get why you couldn't just be happy." Snow boldly stomped up to her former step-mother, just enough so that she could hear the woman breathing. "Regina, I know that we've just started to let go of the past and that scares the both of us. We've spent decades at each other's throats and we finally have the chance to make it right. Why risk the way things are for something that could never work?"

Regina felt as if she'd just been kicked in the stomach, and she was positive that it wasn't because of the morning sickness. She hadn't been the least bit ready to have Snow assault her in such a cruel manner. The Princess may not have used her fists or a bow and arrow, but her words cut into Regina like David's sword and pierced her right in her heart. She was almost too astonished to reply.

Before Regina knew it, she'd released her grip on the wooden railing and was advancing on Snow like a lion, fangs bared and guns blazing, forcing the teacher into a corner; Snow didn't even flinch when Regina was just inches away from her. "Because you're Emma's mother and because she loves you so much, too much considering what you've put her through, I'm going to ask you to leave before I make you." She had nothing to back up that promise, but she was banking on Snow taking the bait.

"Threats don't work anymore, Regina," Snow tenaciously informed her. "I'm not going anywhere until you answer my questions."

The similarities between Emma and her mom were astounding and worrisome at the same time. Regina just hoped their child would have more sense than to play with fire. "Contrary to what you may think, I don't owe you anything—"

"You owe me everything!" Snow cried. "You took away the life I could have had with my daughter! And now you've taken her away again?! How is that fair?! You owe me an explanation!"

Counting to 10 in her head, Regina suppressed the urge to teleport into the bathroom and let herself be sick. "Snow, I'm giving you another chance to go. I don't want to do anything—" On an impulse— a dangerous one— Snow grabbed Regina and threw her up against the wall; Regina's head slammed against a picture frame and the glass shattered at the contact. A single line of blood trickled down her neck as she wrestled against Snow's firm hold. "Are you insane?! Let go!" Regina demanded, more afraid for her unborn child than herself. At Snow's tightening grasp, the Queen finally conceded, if only for the safety of the baby. She was powerless, there was no way she could survive an entire battle. "Fine! You want answers?That's exactly what you'll get!" While Regina stopped fighting the Princess, Snow never relented. The mayor got a glimpse at the crazed, enlarged pupils of being before her— she recognized that empty stare, that desire to protect one's family. "You were always so naive— so blind to what really went in the lives of those around you! You always wanted to believe that love was easy and one-dimensional! You never stopped to consider that things weren't always black and white! Not everyone's first love is their True Love, Snow! Not everyone gets what you and David have the first time!"

Giving Regina a rattling jolt, Snow seethed, "That's not what I asked you!"

"I love Emma!" Her Majesty squawked in resignation, her heart beating in her ears. "Can't you understand that? I love her and she loves me! Why is that so wrong?!"

Almost as if something had clicked inside of her, that crazed look in Snow's eyes vanished and she relinquished her dominance over Regina. She started backing away and gaped at her hands, which were now pale and shaking. She glanced from her weapons to Regina, horrified to see the blood that the brunette was wiping away. Snow hadn't meant to hurt the woman; that was the last thing she'd wanted to do. "Regina, I— I'm sorry," she stammered. "I'm so sorry."

Feeling where the red river was coming from, Regina brought her fingers down and peered at the dark substance. She peeled herself off of the wall, dug her heels into the glass below her, and started to stagger towards Snow, who desperately wished to run away. Her ankles wobbling with every step, there were now four Snows in front of Regina, and they were all flipping upside down. Just like her night stand, it was as if Snow was growing further away, beyond Regina's reach. "Emma," she mumbled, her palm pressed against her stomach to protect the baby. Before she could get to her opponent, Regina's world stopped dividing and went pitch black. Her knees buckled from under her and her entire vessel crashed onto the floor with a ghastly thud. For the second time in three days, Regina fainted.

* * *

**A/N** - Hello, dearies! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. For those of you who don't follow me on Twitter or Tumblr, I had surgery last Monday. Everything went well and I'm totally fine, but I'd hoped to get more writing done during my recovery. Obviously, I managed to accomplish some, but it wasn't as much as I'd wanted. Anyway, I'm still working on "Universe & U," as well as "Back in the Game." However, next Saturday, I move into the dorms for a summer program I'm in. As of now, I have absolutely no idea how much time I'll have to write, but I promise, I'll do my very best to update these stories. I will NOT abandon them. If I can, I'll add at least one more chapter to the other two stories. That being said, this could potentially be the last update for a little while- just until I get my schedule down and I figure everything out. Thank you so much for all of your kind reviews over the last few months. It means so much to know that you all like these stories! I'll be back soon, dearies. Take care, OUaS.


	7. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Emma got the call from Dr. Whale himself. He told her very little except for the fact that Regina had been taken to the emergency room, that she was stable, and that she had specifically asked him NOT to call Emma. Other than the room number, that was about it. But, Emma was on her way as soon as Dr. Whale said Regina's name.

Dropping everything that she was doing, which was pretty much nothing, Emma sprinted through the station, followed by David and jumped into the truck. Her father revved engine and sped down the populous road, the tires screeching with every sharp turn. Neither of them said a word the entire car ride.

As soon as he pulled up to the entrance, Emma busted through the doors and bolted down the twisty-turny hallways. She bumped into orderlies and shoved past nurses, everyone a blur of blue. Squeaky food carts and disgusting laundry hampers weren't enough to distract the sheriff. Even knowing that the last time she'd been here was when Neal died couldn't stop her. She was a woman on a mission: she had to find Regina.

Emma was going so fast, she completely passed the room twice. Backpedaling three numbers, she took one look at her girlfriend in the hospital bed and kicked down the door. "Gina?"

"Gods, I told him not to contact to you!" Regina groaned in mortification, shrinking under her covers. The white, dotted gown she'd been coerced into putting on was much easier to breathe in than her suit, though she wouldn't ever admit it. Her left arm had a clear tube hanging out of her vein, which was connected to a bag on a steel hook. Two, beige straps were wrapped around her waist, one above her belly button and one below— it was the fetal monitor. As Emma neared Regina, there was a steady whooshing sound coming from a machine and she knew immediately what it was.

"What happened?" the blonde begged as she took the empty space beside the brunette. Emma did her own examination and searched for any signs of injury or harm. When she saw a corner of a white piece of tape by Regina's ear, she gasped and turned the woman's chin slightly. "Gina?!"

"It's nothing, Emma. Just a little scrape. I'm all right," Regina soothed. She reached for Emma's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"The baby?"

"The baby's fine. Her heart's beating as strong as ever— listen."

"It's girl?" the Savior wondered as she brushed Regina's flushed cheek.

"I think so," the Queen corrected. "They were going to do an ultrasound when I got here, but it didn't feel right without you."

Gaping at the box where the sound was being emitted, Emma rerouted her concern and frowned at the mother of her child. "Regina, what happened?" she asked again, slower this time.

Turning away from Emma, unable to look her in the eye, Regina gazed out of her window. It was a bit fuzzy, but from there, she got a perfect view of the clock tower. It still astounded her to see the hands announce the correct time. After 28 years of it being 8:15, it was refreshing to see life continue. If she was going to lie, Regina was going to have find a focal point. "I wasn't thinking clearly. It was a mistake… I was sick earlier and I thought some cider would help. I was on my way to the kitchen, but I tripped down the last few stairs. It was my fault, my careless decision."

Emma had to figure out whether she believed Regina or not. It sounded convincing— almost too convincing. But there was something in the way Regina told her that didn't feel right; she sounded too calm. "You fell?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Regina nodded gravely. "I'm sorry. I know I should've been more careful. It won't happen again."

"Better not," Emma played along for the sake of keeping Regina calm. "You're carrying a royal kid in there."

Right as she leaned in to kiss Regina, Snow busted in with a frantic expression. "Regina, I am so sorry! I'm— I don't know why I did that… I'm so sorry!"

Beyond confused, Emma rose slowly and looked down at the mayor then up at her mother. "Whoa, whoa, slow down. What's going on?"

As if Snow couldn't be any more ashamed and petrified, her eyes widened to the size of tennis balls. Her usually fair skin was even fairer, if that was even possible. She looked as if she were going to pass out. "You didn't tell her?"

"Tell me what? What's going on?!" Emma griped. At Regina's firm jaw and consistent ignoring of Snow's melodrama, the sheriff suddenly understood. Whatever felt off about Regina's testimony was real— she bullshitted the whole thing. "You didn't trip, did you?" When Regina said nothing, Emma addressed her hysterical mother. "What the hell did you do?"

Sobbing uncontrollably, Snow was in worse shape than Regina. To make it all even more rotten, David showed up right as Snow confessed her crimes. "I just wanted to talk to her. I didn't— I didn't mean for it to go so far."

"Snow," David sighed from behind. "What've you done?"

Without letting the Princess go any further in detail, Emma yanked Snow by her purse and dragged her into the hallway. She all but tossed her onto the floor. "Do you have _any_ idea what could've happened?! Regina is pregnant, Mary Margaret! You could've hurt both her and the baby!"

"Pregnant?" Snow blubbered. David was almost afraid to touch his wife— afraid and frustrated. Right when she needed his loving embrace the most, the Prince shied away from his bride. He couldn't begin to fathom what had been going through Snow's mind.

"Stay away from us," Emma hissed, a split second decision. Her upper lip quivered as she growled at her mother. "I don't want you anywhere near Regina, Henry, or me. You got that? Stay away from my family!"

"Emma," David intervened. He physically put himself in front of her and blocked Snow from their daughter. "Go. Take care of Regina. I'll see to it that Henry gets picked up."

Instead of saying "thank you" or hugging her father, Emma stomped her foot and disappeared back into Regina's room. She never looked over her shoulder, not even to see David's reaction; she was too pissed off at Snow. Emma pulled the curtain around Regina's bed and returned to the spot that had gotten cold in her absence, never realizing that the brunette had heard everything. "Gina," Emma said slowly. "I swear to you, nothing's happen to you guys, ok? I won't let it. No one will ever hurt you or Henry or that baby. Gina, look at me."

With great hesitancy, Regina broke away from the distorted clock tower and stared into Emma's green eyes. What she was about to say next… everything inside of her fought against it. She didn't want to do it. She didn't want things to change— not again. Not after everything that they'd been through together. But after today, it was clear to Regina that there was no other way. She had to do this. For the sake of Emma and for the sake of their child, Regina had to tell her.

Slipping into her Queen persona, Regina pursed her lips together and spoke without any feeling whatsoever. "We can't do this anymore. It's not right. We could never make this work." Snow's malicious words burned in her throat as she stopped herself from throwing up— not because of the morning sickness, but because she was actually doing this. "You'll pack your bags tonight and you'll go to Granny's. You'll still be able to see Henry, but we'll have to arrange a schedule and—"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Emma sputtered, shaking her head. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You'll check in at Granny's and I'll see to it that the room is taken care of," Regina reiterated, her face set as stone. Her palms were getting clammy and both her and the baby's hearts were racing. The kid didn't like this anymore than she did. "It's for the best, Emma."

That wasn't good enough for the blonde. Regina was fine just a second ago. Why the hell was she saying all this now? Emma started pacing at the foot of Regina's bed, one hand scratching her head and the other on her lower back. "Is this because of Mary Margaret?" she chirped frustratedly, grabbing for the plastic handles. She tapped her boot compulsively as she waited for an answer.

Playing with the clip on her index finger, Regina refused to look at Emma. She refused to see the pain she was inflicting on the one woman she truly loved. Because, if she did, she knew she wouldn't have been able to go through with it. "Snow has nothing to do with this," she lied smoothly— too smooth for her own liking.

Still, Emma didn't believe her for a million dollars. "She said something, didn't she?"

"I'm an adult, Emma. I make my own decisions," Regina spat. "Sometimes," she whispered, "sometimes love can only endure so much."

"Jesus Christ, stop saying that!" Emma roared, her words bouncing off of the floor. Ripping herself away from the end, she traveled back to Regina's side, out of breath and loosing her touch on reality. "Whatever's wrong, I can make it better. We can get through it together."

Her nostrils twitching and her eyes burning, Regina was firm. "I'm sorry to rain on your parade, but there are things that even the Savior can't fix." She watched as everything she'd been spewing finally sank into Emma's chest and pulled her under the tide. And she watched the very second the spark in Emma's eyes was extinguished and the blackness took over. "This is your baby," Regina remarked, her hand over her stomach. "This doesn't change that." Without so much as an "I'm sorry," Regina turned back to the clock tower and pulled the blankets up to her shoulders. "You should go before Henry gets home."

When Regina didn't look back or say "I love you," it hit Emma like a bowling ball. Snot running down her nose and her ears the shade of strawberries, she found herself walking away from the only person she'd ever given herself too completely; the mother of her children and the love of her life. As if she were no longer in control of her own body, the sheriff glided down the hospital corridors, ignoring everything and everyone around her. The beeping and the paging all became muted and people became fuzzy. She was the only one there, the only one was suffering from something medicine couldn't cure: a broken heart.

After passing the emergency room, Emma's legs started moving faster and faster, until she was flying. She zoomed out of the building and into the storm that had accumulated over the course of the visit. Gray clouds and heavy raindrops obscured her vision, but her internal compass guided her through the barely detectable roads. Her feet pounded against the cement like mallets on a snare drum, sending vibrations up her leg and through the rest of her being.

It took her less than 15 minutes to get from the hospital to the mansion. She fumbled impatiently for her keys, jammed the piece of metal into the lock, and thrust herself through the threshold. Slamming the door behind her, Emma fell to the ground and landed on her bum. She didn't even bother catching herself.

Rocking back and forth, the Savior wrapped her arms around her torso and let the tears fall. She bawled quietly to herself until she began hyperventilating. Just like the night that Neal died, Emma was inconsolable, and now, there was no one there to ease her pain— not like Regina could. Right when everything was falling into place, right when she had found happiness again, it was ripped away from her clutches with nothing to fill the void.

* * *

The moment Emma left, Regina let go of her bottled sorrow and curled into the fetal position. She tore the monitors off of her abdomen and cradled her baby herself. With her knees to her chest, the mayor wept silently into her pillow. She was angry, betrayed, disgusted, and devastated, all to no one's fault but her own. She'd done the one thing that she'd promised she'd never do: she hurt the only person who had ever understood her— the only person who loved her for all of her.

When the door opened half an hour later, Regina had hoped it was Emma. But, her excitement was quickly squashed when He pulled aside the curtain and revealed his true self. "Regina?"

"Whale," the patient replied tersely, facing away from him. He may have been her doctor, but she was still his superior. It was already humiliating enough. The adults had a past, just like Regina had with every resident in Storybrooke. However, her relationship with Whale hadn't always been a rocky one. Through everything, she supposed they were even.

"We weren't able to do this earlier, as you requested Emma's presence. Would you still like to wait on the ultrasound?" Whale had brought in the machine on the off-chance Madame Mayor agreed. He wasn't entirely sure what what going on with her and Emma, but he knew better than to push his luck. It was a miracle enough that Regina let him examine her when she came in.

At the very mention of her name, the salt in Regina's self-inflicted wound ground deeper. She bit back the howl that grew in her throat and rolled onto her back. "No," she said simply.

Without missing a beat, Whale nodded in understanding. "Very well. I'll just get you set up then." Cleaning himself with hand sanitizer, Whale commenced the process by tactfully exposing Regina's stomach. He flipped on the monitor and sprayed the gel, turned on the sound and lifted the wand. "This may feel weird, but it won't hurt," he cautioned. Lowering the scanner until it made contact with skin, he ran it back and forth in search of the— "There it is." Whale pointed with his pinky to the person in front of him.

Sniffling somewhat, Regina allowed herself to gaze upon the computer screen. Nothing could have prepared her for this. That same whooshing sound from the fetal monitor now came from this machine, but louder. And even better? She could see her baby. If she didn't believe it before, she believed it now: there was a tiny human being inside of her. No bigger than the size of a peanut, it was in deed a child. Even in black and white, Regina knew the baby was beautiful. "It's…" she trailed off, unable to create a coherent sentence.

"As far as I can tell, it's healthy. You're about seven weeks along, which is too early to determine the sex," Whale said. "There are other tests we can do, though you're in fit enough shape that they aren't necessary." Pressing the pause button, he returned the wand back to its home and wiped the gel off of Regina, who was speechless. "Do you have any questions or concerns?" When she didn't say anything, Whale accepted that as a "no." With a simple click of a key, a physical copy was printed out and he offered the picture to Regina. "This is for you. Congratulations." There was no sarcasm or vengeance in his voice, just pure compassion.

Regina absentmindedly accepted the photograph and sat frozen until Whale left her alone again. As soon as he was gone, she was glued to that tiny piece of paper, absolutely amazed. That was her baby— hers and Emma's.

A week ago, things were fine. They were stressful, but they were fine. And now— now they weren't. Regina had just blown the horn on something wonderful. But, she did it out of love. Whether Emma ever understood, it had been because Regina loved her. She did it for the same reason Snow and David put Emma in the wardrobe, and she did for the same reason Emma put Henry up for adoption: Regina wanted to give the Savior her best chance at a happy ending. Because, whatever was going on between them wasn't It— not in Regina's mind.

Hugging the picture close to her body, Regina closed her eyes. She began to shudder uncontrollably and she sounded as if she needed an oxygen mask. Her face was stained with the tears she shed for Emma, for Henry, and for the baby. Henry was going to hate her, Emma probably already did, this child? Would it forgive her? Hell, would Regina ever forgive herself?


End file.
